One Last Time

Epilogue: One Last Time

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Epilogue

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Levi

"Um hello ... My name is Maria and I am your new designated house attendant."

There was nothing particular that was interesting about this woman.

And to say the least, I had no interest in her whatsoever. After all, she came in with her muddy dress, dirtying the floors I just mopped. At that moment I thought that if she turned out to be useless, I would just throw her outside.

"Please ... Don't make me do this."

If there's anything I hate more in this world besides dirty floors, it has to be women crying. I fucking hate it, especially when they make you feel like it's your fault.

But at that moment, she looked so defenseless and scared that I just knew I won't be able to throw her out of the house even if I wanted to. Especially when she looked at me with her brown tired eyes that always looked like she was about to cry.

I dislike her already and it's been 15 minutes since we met.

I don't know why but her presence annoyed me and made me angry.

Like, why does she have to make the tea so good? Why does she take extra time ironing my clothes? Why does she stay up late sewing up the torn fabric of my shirts? It's not like I was ever going to know.

She even made an extra bowl of white rice for me because she knew I like it.

Tsk, I hated it. Even when she will stay up the whole night with me. I would work on my paperwork while she stayed silent next to me, sewing.

Fuck you, Maria.

Because you made me feel things, I did not want to feel.

Like that day when we were alone and I found her cooking breakfast in the clothes I lent her.

And she wasn't even showing any skin. She was wearing my brown baggy pants and a white shirt that I used to wear back on the underground. But in the kitchen there were windows. The sunlight landed on her body, going straight to the white fabric of the clothes. I could see her bare back and her curves appeared so beautiful to me. It's not something I see very often since most of the naked women I've seen had a very well built body.

"Oh, good morning! Would you like something for breakfast?"

I remember that day ... I tried so hard not to look at her breasts. It's not like I could see much anyway because her hair covered it.

Maybe it was that she looked so comfortable, so content and at peace that made her very pleasing to look at.

I hated her ... because my clothes will never look as good on me as they do on her.

At that moment I really thought of just giving all of my clothes to her.

Also, her fucking smell. She smells exactly like lavender. Maria actually told me once that she likes to always carry with her pieces of lavender on her dresses and even washes her clothes with it. She even takes baths with it.

What a fucking coincidence, right? That the smell of lavender reduces stress and anxiety, my two main characteristics.

Maybe that's why I always found it pleasing being next to her, be closer to her.