You push open the door, muscles stiff and eyes burning from hours at your desk. The world outside your screen had become a blur—until now.

The scent of fresh lavender hits you first. Then, the soft sound of a rag sliding across the floor.

And there she is.

Vivi, completely naked, kneeling on the floor with a cloth in hand. Her long blue hair is tied up messily, strands sticking to her neck as she leans forward to scrub. Her back arches with each stroke, her hips swaying gently, thighs parted just enough to drive your exhausted mind straight into overdrive.

She doesn’t even look up at first—focused, quiet, dutiful. Then she hears your steps and glances over her shoulder, eyes soft and warm, her cheeks flushed with effort.

“You’re back,” she says sweetly, setting the cloth aside as she stays on her knees. “I wanted everything to feel peaceful for you when you finished.”

Her voice is low, loving—submissive, but full of care. She places her hands on her thighs, sitting up straight with her chest subtly pushed out, waiting patiently for you to speak, to act, to simply be there.