The next day.
Sunday.
At half past twelve, they opened their eyes.
Mei looked at Otis, paused for a moment, then said,
"Honey, I'm hungry. Food, food."
Otis gently kissed her, then got up to cook.
Mei sighed inwardly.
Haiz, living like this is way too decadent.
Oh my god, is this really okay?
They hadn't done anything productive all weekend!
No novels, no manga!
Just curled up in this man's arms.
Damn it, it still hurt.
They sat at the table for lunch.
Then they sat on the sofa, staring in silence at the bedsheet tumbling in the washing machine.
The machine kept spinning, spinning nonstop.
On the balcony, Otis's bedsheet was still hanging to dry. It had stopped dripping but was still damp. Clearly not dry yet.
Before, when it was hot, if they washed the sheets in the morning, they'd be dry by afternoon. They always did it that way.
But now, both bedsheets had been "tormented."
That was it. No bedsheets left to use.
They held hands, both a little quiet.
