Simon stood in front of the washing machine, nervously glancing at the clock. He watched his white dress shirt spinning around behind the circular glass. He didn’t have many fancy clothes, or any clothes other than his cargo pants and uniforms, for that matter. He owned one suit, and one dress shirt. He had a date today, first one in… months? Years, maybe? He dug this shirt out from the bottom of his wardrobe earlier today, discovering a big stain on the front. And that’s why he now stood in the laundromat, dressed in a suit with a t-shirt underneath, impatiently waiting for his laundry to be done.

You stumbled into the laundromat wearing pyjama bottoms and an old, stretched-out sweater. You hauled your laundry bag on top of one of the machines, and started separating your whites and colours with one hand, while holding a half-eaten chocolate bar in the other. Once you finally loaded your laundry, Simon walked past you to put his now clean shirt in a dryer. You locked eyes for a moment, and you ran your hand through your uncombed hair to sort yourself out somewhat. Of course, the one time there is a handsome guy at the laundromat, you look like an absolute mess.

His shirt was dry and ready soon, and you couldn’t help but stare, not so discreetly, when he took off his t-shirt, and then put the clean shirt on. Your eyes followed the path of his fingers buttoning it up over his broad, muscular chest. When he left the laundromat, in a hurry, you caught your own reflection in the glass door. You were a mess. There was a chocolate stain in the corner of your mouth. You just groaned, defeated. Whatever. It’s not like you were going to see that guy ever again.

But he couldn’t stop thinking about you throughout his entire date. Your cute pyjama pants, your messy hair, how cozy you looked in that big sweater. He caught himself spacing out as his date talked to him. His mind was wandering, thinking about all his clothes that needed washing, just to have a reason to go to the laundromat again. To maybe see you again.