50: Laundry

                                    

                                          
DAISY
It's one in the afternoon when I finish boiling the potatoes. I wrap up the chicken casserole preparation and place the pan in the oven to cook. I use this time to do my laundry before the timer goes off.
My hamper is full; I have no clean clothes for the week, so laundry becomes necessary.
I change out of my dress and into a dark pink sleeveless shirt and gray shorts before gathering everything needed into a storage basket and heading to the laundry room. Yesterday, on my way home, I stopped at a neighboring supermarket to pick up some detergents and stain removers.
Sunday is my only free day of the week, so I need to use it for laundry and additional studies. With my new six-hour workdays during the week and Saturday morning shifts alongside Kate and Jeffery—an impressive young man in his early twenties with a fully bald head and surprisingly soft voice—my schedule is packed.
This morning, it's just Cuppy and me at home. We went for a walk and returned before nine to have breakfast. Kay has left, and Riley left a note saying she's out shopping for indoor accessories.
When I came home from work yesterday, the house felt empty. The TV area was blank, the lamps were gone, and the dining table had only one stool. The end tables were missing entirely. Most of the frames were gone. It was clear why Kay disappeared until late evening. When he returned, he said nothing and went straight to his room with Riley.
I focus on the laundry, which is a success as usual with all the facilities. I'm almost done.
With my headphones on and my mind immersed in the music, I turn to swap the wet items into the dryer, only to be startled by a figure standing by the doorframe.
I jump back in surprise and almost lose my balance, but he quickly grabs me by the waist and pulls me into his strong embrace.
That delightful masculine scent overwhelms me, alerting every part of me to his presence.
Kaiser.
He's tall and strikingly attractive, with emerald eyes behind long lashes that could make anyone sin with just a glance.
I look up at him, and he looks nothing like he did last night. The frown has been replaced by a smile, and his once blazing eyes are now soft and glowing. I have to look away before I can glance down at those magnetic lips that could pull me in no matter the situation.
His free hand removes my headphones and slides them down my neck.
"I'm drooling. Out there it smells like a home-cooked meal, and here..." He lowers his face to my ear and whispers seductively, "It smells like you."
His deep voice does absurd things to my posture. It makes my tongue sweep over my dry lips, and I'm sure he notices in the silence as he observes my profile.
It takes everything I have to keep my hands to myself. The urge to hold him is too strong.
"What are you cooking?" he asks.
My heartbeat is out of control. I have no power over my suddenly thawing body. I can't form coherent words. He's so close, and it still isn't enough.
Deep down, I want to respond, but all I see is a betrayer, so this is for the best. I focus on the wall behind him and try to slow my breathing.
Why is his presence affecting me this much? Can't I just shut him out of my head? 
"Are we back to not talking?" he teases when I don't answer. "Fine, I'll call Hopper to get your stuff to the laundry service. You know we don't do the laundry ourselves."