MirrorMirror

33 / Cleanliness is Next to Ghostliness

Once his brother had left, Cassidy retrieved Bobby and went through to the living room.

The sofa was calling. Brainless TV shows were calling. He planned on answering their call.

Settling down, he was about to lay the dog next to him, but Bobby pre-empted his move and laid there, anyway. His body was against Cassidy's leg, as tightly tucked in as he could get. His head was on his outstretched front legs. Cass rested his arm across the pup and slowly stroked the back of his head between the ears. He turned the television on, prepared to watch anything, as long as he didn't have to think about it, or anything else.

It turned out his brain had other ideas. The anonymous shows he flicked through failed to capture his attention, though he'd wanted something that wouldn't, anyway. Even the streaming services were unable to provide a programme he could leave on for more than a few minutes without his finger itching to change it.

His brother had surprised him. His complete acceptance of Amy was unexpected and, if their positions were reversed, Cass couldn't be sure he'd react the same. Ethan could be erratic, but, on many occasions, had also shown a calm level headedness that wasn't in keeping with his usual, more cavalier, attitude. There was no fear.

He contemplated having a shower, then remembered he wasn't alone. Privacy had left the building and had gone on holiday. It'd be sunning itself on a beach somewhere, wondering whether to get another drink or take a dip in the ocean. Who knew when it would return, if ever. Amy's eyes, invisible though they were, could see everywhere. Everything.

It was the first time he was pleased to have issues with constipation. He would have to speak with her about boundaries.

The shower was needed. Cassidy was never an unclean person and he couldn't allow the fact he might be seen – or would be – naked to put him off. He enjoyed them anyway. A shower didn't only wash away the grime from his skin, it also did the same to his thoughts. It was relaxing. Cleansing in multiple ways.

"I'm going to get a shower," he said to the mirror. "Can you close your eyes? Look the other way?"

He had no way of knowing if Amy was able to direct her view or if she just saw everything. If it was the latter, nothing could prevent him being seen doing whatever he did. He wasn't an exhibitionist, and nor was he a prude. He'd do what he had to.

The lack of a reply from the exhausted Amy told him nothing, but made his mind up for him. A shower it was. He walked through to the bathroom, pulled the curtain across the bath and set the water flowing. He then returned to his bedroom to undress while the water temperature rose to the, hopefully, correct level.

Removing everything apart from his boxer shorts was something he did without thinking. It was only when he had to fully disrobe that he paused. Amy had seen all he had to 'offer.' She wasn't offended and, it seemed, she had enjoyed the unintentional show. He could, and possibly should, have felt violated, but didn't. She was unable to prevent herself from observing the things he did. She was trapped and, as much as she had her abilities, she couldn't free herself. Amy was tied to the house and witness to all that happened within its walls.

That included his showering, defecating and anything else a man living alone might be prone to do.

Cass removed his boxers and tossed them onto his bed with his other clothes. He'd sort them out when he was done. He stood still for a moment, wondering if Amy was looking. She had still not responded. That could mean she was spiritually sleeping or perhaps wasn't in existence at all. If she was, in fact, looking at him, he didn't feel he had anything to be ashamed or self conscious of. He was in mostly decent shape, though a six pack of well-defined abdominal muscles wasn't something he aspired to. He was proportioned well enough, and Amy had already admitted she approved of his physique.