I never thought that I'd think a person was refreshing, and I'm not talking about that, 'I just took a drink of cold water after playing outside all day long' type of refreshing.
I'm talking about the feeling of fresh bedroom sheets that hug you in...
A/N; play song towards the middle of the chapter! 😘
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Ashton's pov
I was startled awake by the sound of Daja singing 'Beyonce's Plastic Off the Sofa' at the top her lungs as she performed her her own Daychella in my shower. Shewas hittin' that shit too might I add. Though I did realize this was another thing I'd have to share for the next few weeks, but if we're on different schedules, it shouldn't even matter.
I fully believed mom was going to allow her to go back to her apartment, but I think it gave her a peace of mind to have both of us close-by her and as much as we were irritated by our newfound limitations on our social lives, we still leaned into everything she was doing without complaint.
I sat up rubbing the sleep from my eyes, before letting out a large yawn that included a stretch to match. I glanced at my unpacked suitcase then around my room before deciding to get up and started on putting things back into order. Plus this way, I could grab clothes for Daja before she raided and ransacked my closet. I also figured I would start our laundry. so we can stay ahead of the daily chores.
Daja's not exactly neat, but she's not super messy either. It's more of a beautiful disaster really. Either way, I'd need to stay ahead of her daily outfit changes.
I had a new plan of attack, now I was getting into motion.
A weird feeling was looming deep in my belly as I climbed from my bed to the unopened suitcase. I tied my hair into a messy bun as I opened it and scanned over the contents. Irritation began to build as I stared at my ugly and rushed handiwork.
Everything was unorganized and messy, something I genuinely hate to experience. Everything has a place and for every place it has a tenant. So just looking at the bundled up clothing was making my skin tickle. I made quick work of pulling everything out before I began to sort it out.
Pants along with shorts would go to my left, and shirts would move to my right. Briefs, socks and bras would lay in the top half of the suitcase equally spaced while shoes went straight to their rightful place in the closet. There was no need for them to touch the floor unless they were attached to my feet.
A few moments later, I had everything sorted by type, such as long sleeves and short sleeves, along with pants and shorts. Then to finish it off, I did it mostly by color. Once I got my dresses hung up in their rightful spot. I reorganized the shoe shelf then grabbed some clothes for Daja.
I moved from the closet to set them down on the bed, then moved the dirty clothes into my hamper, finally ready to start the first load. I was carrying the laundry basket towards the laundry room when something, or someone caught my eye as I passed by the kitchen opening. The sight of them caught me by surprise, to say the least. Confusion came to me next.
I quickly backtracked and my face became stoic when I confirmed who was sitting at my kitchen bar. The male eating my food, on my bar stool, with my dishware. He was staring at my mother who was now eyeing me carefully.
