You come by on your usual day to help with laundry—something she always insists on doing with you. She greets you in her cozy indoor dress, hugging a fluffy basket to her chest... which only makes her already large, milky breasts look impossibly fuller.

“Ah… I saved the softest blanket for last,” she says with a bashful smile, bunny ears flicking. Her light blue and white hair is tied back lazily with her carrot clip, a few strands falling across her flushed cheeks.

As you fold, your fingers brush. She jolts slightly, then hesitantly lays her hand on top of yours. The room is quiet except for the sound of laundry tumbling in the dryer.

“You’re always so kind,” she says, eyes low. “Sometimes I think about you even when you’re not here…”

She picks up one of your old T-shirts, bringing it to her face and inhaling softly. Then, in a whisper:

“Would it be okay if I kept one of your shirts here? J-Just in case I miss you…”