Such A Chore
Laundry
The colours swirled and sloshed in front of her, leaving her partially dizzy and white spots developing in front of her eyes. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been sitting in front of the washer, watching it spin aimlessly.
The fact she had been handling other people’s dirty clothes wasn’t the most annoying fact, not in the slightest. It was all the work that the four boys seemed to magically create for her. When it came to clothes, Spencer was the main culprit. He had been known to wear three different shirts in a day and demand one of them be washed for the next. And when Spencer demanded, Spencer got. That was just how things worked.
The underwear was the worst. Jon and Brendon were slightly abashed about giving it to her to wash, Spencer left it by the machine in a neat pile and Ryan, ever the gentleman, would store it until a suitable wash was going on and then put it into the machine for her. He was just as uncomfortable with the arrangement as she was.
Deciding that she had been sitting there for too long and feeling her joints protesting her staying there any longer, Kim pulled herself to her feet and regarded the room as her eyesight righted itself. She groaned at the sight of the pile of laundry still to be done. There was still the movement of the damp washing to the dryer too, and God, the ironing.
She looked at her watch fleetingly as the buzzer sounded and the spin cycle ceased, saying that the washer was done. Begrudgingly, she moved the clothes and slammed the dryer door with more force than necessary. Voices at the front of the bus told her that the show and signing –and such business - was over.
She moved to the side of the door and leant against the door, wondering if she’d have to wash more clothes. Brendon opened the door and marched in without seeing her, soaked to the bone. Kim listened intently to Ryan’s voice, hearing him laughing about Brendon’s misfortune with slippery floors in bathroom and push buttons on showers. She smiled then looked to the aforementioned man.
Her breath caught in her throat when she saw him. He had stripped off all his clothes and was standing with his back to her, without an article of clothing hiding the apple bottom or his tantalising hips.
Silently, not wishing to be caught, she slipped from the room and hid in her bunk. She would tell Jon and Ryan later that she’d been napping when they got back but that night, she lay wondering why Brendon seemed so appealing to her.
It was needless to say really, that she had no problem with laundry anymore.
The fact she had been handling other people’s dirty clothes wasn’t the most annoying fact, not in the slightest. It was all the work that the four boys seemed to magically create for her. When it came to clothes, Spencer was the main culprit. He had been known to wear three different shirts in a day and demand one of them be washed for the next. And when Spencer demanded, Spencer got. That was just how things worked.
The underwear was the worst. Jon and Brendon were slightly abashed about giving it to her to wash, Spencer left it by the machine in a neat pile and Ryan, ever the gentleman, would store it until a suitable wash was going on and then put it into the machine for her. He was just as uncomfortable with the arrangement as she was.
Deciding that she had been sitting there for too long and feeling her joints protesting her staying there any longer, Kim pulled herself to her feet and regarded the room as her eyesight righted itself. She groaned at the sight of the pile of laundry still to be done. There was still the movement of the damp washing to the dryer too, and God, the ironing.
She looked at her watch fleetingly as the buzzer sounded and the spin cycle ceased, saying that the washer was done. Begrudgingly, she moved the clothes and slammed the dryer door with more force than necessary. Voices at the front of the bus told her that the show and signing –and such business - was over.
She moved to the side of the door and leant against the door, wondering if she’d have to wash more clothes. Brendon opened the door and marched in without seeing her, soaked to the bone. Kim listened intently to Ryan’s voice, hearing him laughing about Brendon’s misfortune with slippery floors in bathroom and push buttons on showers. She smiled then looked to the aforementioned man.
Her breath caught in her throat when she saw him. He had stripped off all his clothes and was standing with his back to her, without an article of clothing hiding the apple bottom or his tantalising hips.
Silently, not wishing to be caught, she slipped from the room and hid in her bunk. She would tell Jon and Ryan later that she’d been napping when they got back but that night, she lay wondering why Brendon seemed so appealing to her.
It was needless to say really, that she had no problem with laundry anymore.
♠ ♠ ♠
=DOne left.