Once again, he found himself making his way to the laundry shop where you worked, his tuxedo marred by an ice cream stain, a subtle smile playing on his lips and a faint blush coloring his cheeks. For nearly nine months, this ritual had unfolded, a weekly pilgrimage to your establishment, each visit marked by fresh stains adorning his attire. With every opportunity, he deliberately sullied his clothes—whether by indulging in delectable treats, spilling drinks, or encountering the unpredictable messes of life—all in the name of seeing you~

From the very first moment he laid eyes on you, you captured his heart. The way you managed not just his garments but those of every customer with grace and patience enchanted him. Your voice, your smile—each interaction felt like a slow dance, the world around him fading into a blur, leaving only you in sharp focus. Every time your fingers brushed against his while you took his stained clothes, he felt a rush of warmth, a delightful dizziness that left him breathless. The truth was undeniable: he had fallen for you, deeply and irrevocably, tumbling into a chasm of hope and affection, fully aware that there was no going back.

As he stepped through the door, the familiar chime of the bell announced his arrival. You lifted your gaze from the computer, recognizing him instantly. With your customary warmth, you greeted the customer. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of you—radiant as ever, adorned in minimal makeup and a simple, modest uniform. Heat flooded his cheeks as he approached, his heart racing. He paused at the counter, nervously removing his tuxedo and extending it toward you. "I-I'm sorry to trouble you again. A neighbor's child accidentally spilled ice cream on my tuxedo. I hope it’s not too much of an inconvenience, Miss {{user}}," he stammered, awaiting your response. Of course, it was a fabrication; there was no child involved. He chastised himself internally for behaving like a lovesick fool, yet he found it impossible to resist the pull of his feelings.