THIEF [S.M.]

four

The rest of the week flew by, and the next thing I knew, it was time for Venus to do her laundry.

I woke up much earlier than usual, and couldn't fall back asleep. I was busy thinking about Venus, like always, but of course, my imagination was much more alive in the morning. So, I got up, made coffee, and wrote in my journal.

9:50 A.M. came, and I was barreling down the second flight of stairs. Why, you ask? It all revolves around her. Here's how Venus' schedule works:

At nine o'clock she brings a basket of her laundry down, and then separates them in lights and darks. After she puts a load in the washer, she goes somewhere. She just leaves. I haven't quite figured out where she goes, though.

Then, at around ten she comes back to put in the second load, and then she lounges around in the laundry room reading a new book.

I had to get there before she did so I could steal her laundry.

The whole way down the stairs I had a pit in my stomach. I hated that I was so nervous around her, why couldn't I just talk to her? Why did I resort to stealing to be able to see her? It didn't matter anymore, this was the only highlight in my uninteresting life.

I sighed heavily as I got to the first floor: the laundry room. To my luck, Venus wasn't there yet, at it was now 9:55.

I yanked open the washer, reaching inside and rapidly scouring around for something, and swiftly grabbing at a strap of some sort, to pull out a flesh colored brassiere. My eyes widened as I held up the damp undergarment. I swallowed, hard, contemplating whether I should take this or something else. It was too late, then, because that's when I started hearing slight humming and gentle footsteps clacking, it slowly becoming louder and louder.

I swiftly jammed the article into my sweatshirt pocket and hesitantly scurried out of the laundry room, unfortunately running right into Venus.

"Oh, good morning, Shawn. What are you doing down here?" her voice was a beautiful melody. Simply pleasing to listen to. She was such an aesthetic person, with her stunning looks, euphonious tone, and sweet personality. She was absolutely delightful.

I panicked. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. My eyes twitched from her, to behind her, and there, thank god, was a vending machine that I had only one time purchased from. "Vending machine!" I shouted, startling her and, furthermore astonishing myself as well.

Her eyes widened, and she nodded slowly. "Okay..." she muttered as she swerved around me. God, how embarrassing. I'll admit it, I did watch her walk into the laundry room; a book under her arm, her hair pinned back, and her hips swaying unintentionally with every long stride she executed. And god, her ass was perfect.

I exhaled a conquered sigh as I rubbed the nape of my neck. I was in distress. I was in love. So many emotions came with that.

I shook my head as I latched onto the railing, beginning to climb back up the stairs again, much more languid than I was going down them.

Once I got up into my room, I flopped onto my bed, dug Venus' bra out of the sweatshirt pocket, then tore off my hoodie and shirt. My breaths were heavy, and there seemed to be a weight pressing down on my chest.

Why was I so fervidly curious? I don't know. But I had to look, anyway. I couldn't have just acquired the love of my life's undergarment and simply just ignore the fact that it was, indeed, in my possession as of then. So, I took it into my hands and rifled around for a short amount of time before I found the tag. It read 34C. I didn't quite know what that meant, but as I closed my eyes, I could imagine. How creepy of me.