"I've got dishes. I will get done with these soon." The clatter of plates was a feeble attempt to mask the flush creeping up her cheeks, her brunette hair sticking to her damp skin as she scrubbed with forced focus.
Vela didn't move, her presence a steady weight in the small kitchen.
She leaned one hip against the counter, arms folding lazily across her chest, her sports bra straining against the taut lines of her torso.
Her green eyes fixed on the curve of Maris's skirt, the fabric clinging to her hips as she bent forward slightly over the sink, the motion accentuating the soft swell of her ass.
Vela's lips twitched, a smirk playing at the edges as she watched, silent.
The steady sound of water filled the silence, the rhythmic slosh of Maris's scrubbing punctuated by the faint hum of her earlier tune.
Sunlight poured through the open window, glinting off the stream of water, catching the suds in a prism of light.
