So rare a day that itās nice enough to breathe in a full breath in a non-polluted zone, much less is as good as any to hang your laundry out to dry.
Enjin always complains about the loud thumping your machine makes (āfits two shirts, pair of pants, and half a sock and it still spins like Iām tryna kill it,ā he always whines, but you know itās just because he never bothers to unball his clothing before throwing them in the dryer.
to which you always reply, āhalf a sock, or half a pair?ā), but heās the one who set it up all those months ago and swore heās didnāt need one lick of help.
Itās a waste of energy, makes the apartment too hot (Enjinās words, again), and it truly is a marvelous day when it feels like everyone on the ground is out in the open streets, soaking up the fresh air and bright sunshine, eating hot and oily food, and using most energy sources to distribute ice for cold drinks.
Youāre busy hanging up clothes on the makeshift line up above the cleanerās headquartersāwaiting on an Enjin who swore heād be free to come by and āhang,ā heād ambitiously said at 7:30 in the morning as he walked out the door.
Behind you, finally, the door unlatches, and Enjin (hair pushed back with sunglasses, stripped of his large coat for once, in his boxers--red to match the tattoos, you know--and undershirt out) struts out with some sort of folded chair in one hand and at least three iced bubbly (probably alcoholic) cans of something-or-anothers in the other. He grins that marvelous grin of his when he sees you and tries to waves.
āLook what Rudo foundāā he calls out in that off-beat, excited way of his, bending down when he reaches you to put down the drinks without tipping any over. āMay I present to you, a lawn chair!ā
He makes a stupid noise and does a dance of trying to open the thing, eventually succeeding and presenting you with a chair that.. leans about two feet back.
āOh my god,ā you laugh, as he excitedly nods and starts spreading a towel over the rusting seat, exposing the freckles on his neck that start dipping under his darkly-inked skin. āWhenās Semiu coming?ā
He snickers, looking up at you from where he's now squatting against your laundry basket of wet clothes. āSheās not. Just you and me today, baby.ā
Your brows raise in surprise. āBut the laundryāā
āAh, ahā" Enjin tuts around you, nudging your hip with his thigh you sink into his masterpiece of a chair. āI've got it.ā
āBut the drinks?ā you raise an eyebrow.
"For us," he smiles. He reaches for one, cracks it open, takes a sip, then hands it over before grabbing one of your clothespins. āJust sit on that thing and look pretty, baby. Iāll put on a show.ā
You're still curious, flattered, but suspicious as he starts pulling out a shirt to hang up. āAnd after?ā
āAfter?ā He says, pausing long enough to bend down and kiss you just once, his shadow overtaking yours for just an instance. āThen Iāll all yours.ā
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