[for Bela]
Eliot wasn't exactly fond of the whole ghost thing yet. They had been helpful when it came to helping him cook for that benefit, but that was him watching them every step of the way. If he was going to watch them do his laundry, he figured he might as well do it himself. The small bag was just a few pairs of jeans and shirts, along with a few pairs of boxer briefs. The essentials.
Though entering the laundry room he had to pause for a moment, his line of sight casting on the curve of a woman bent enough to reach into the bottom of the washer. A strong arm, gripped to the edge of the washer, shoulder bare with the perfect shade of blue to contrast her skin tone in the tank top she was wearing. His eyes cast down the length of legs, crossed just slight enough to let a bare foot overlap to the other showing below the cuff of the dark jeans she was wearing. Scratching his chin he watched for a moment as the brunette's hair fell a bit further off her shoulder as she pulled a few more things out of the washer and moved them fluidly into the dryer. He was staring, he was well aware of that and he was mostly trying to time it out to see how much longer he could stare.
When she stood up straight and tucked her hair behind her ear he had to turn his gaze away, it was Bela. He thought he'd memorized pretty much most of her figure, but for some reason the sight of her in the tank top, jeans and bare feet -- nearly blanked out his prior recollection of her. He turned away glancing to behind him as she turned and smiled at him.
"Bela, sorry -- I didn't expect anyone in here."
"Castle full of just shy of four hundred people, and you expected a room to be empty?"
The playful arch of her eyebrow struck a smirk from him as he shook his head, "Well no, I didn't expect to run into you I suppose."
"Ah, trying honesty I see."
"Well for now at least," Eliot admitted as she moved away from the washer. "You done with this?"
She glanced to him for a moment before nodding, "It's all yours."
Eliot smiled in return, and set the bag of his own dirty laundry down to the floor before glancing into the washer. A piece of black fabric was stuck up toward the front of the washer, and at first glance Eliot assumed it was a sock, but when he pried it free the shape came unfolded and Eliot nearly dropped it. Coughing to clear his throat he glanced toward Bela, "I think this is yours."
He didn't hold it up, instead he moved his hand with some decorum to simply slip it into her hands. Bela however opted to muse over it for a moment, holding the pair of black panties up for a moment. Eliot watched her, mostly, with a look of curiosity. He could figure out most women within a few minutes of meeting them. He might be wrong some of the time, but he at least had a general idea of what made them tick. There was still something about Bela that made him wonder why he couldn't figure her out yet. Raising an eyebrow he questioned her, "Not yours?"
"Oh, no, they are mine." Her smirk... it was dangerous and Eliot was quickly at least learning that. "I was just seeing what you reaction to them was. Though you were watching me, not them."
Eliot chuckled, "Well, that's true. Though if we're trying honesty here, at the moment they're just fabric. They don't really make me react until they're either on a woman, or about to come off."
The way she pursed her lips, wasn't anything that gave him the thought that she was thinking she was above him, it was -- something else -- another thing he hadn't figured out about her yet. Eliot turned away and started to toss his own clothing into the washer, now that it was empty. Once the bag was empty he tossed that in as well, knowing he'd be bringing his clean clothes back to his room in it. Soap went in, and the dial was turned and pulled to start the wash. Leaning back against the table he regarded her again, the once out in the open panties now tossed into the dryer with the rest of her clothing.
Folding his arms he smiled at her, "So you do your laundry all the time?"
"Every Friday evening."
"I'll remember that, for next time," Eliot replied smirking at her, knowing that he'd be doing his laundry on Friday nights from now on.
Though entering the laundry room he had to pause for a moment, his line of sight casting on the curve of a woman bent enough to reach into the bottom of the washer. A strong arm, gripped to the edge of the washer, shoulder bare with the perfect shade of blue to contrast her skin tone in the tank top she was wearing. His eyes cast down the length of legs, crossed just slight enough to let a bare foot overlap to the other showing below the cuff of the dark jeans she was wearing. Scratching his chin he watched for a moment as the brunette's hair fell a bit further off her shoulder as she pulled a few more things out of the washer and moved them fluidly into the dryer. He was staring, he was well aware of that and he was mostly trying to time it out to see how much longer he could stare.
When she stood up straight and tucked her hair behind her ear he had to turn his gaze away, it was Bela. He thought he'd memorized pretty much most of her figure, but for some reason the sight of her in the tank top, jeans and bare feet -- nearly blanked out his prior recollection of her. He turned away glancing to behind him as she turned and smiled at him.
"Bela, sorry -- I didn't expect anyone in here."
"Castle full of just shy of four hundred people, and you expected a room to be empty?"
The playful arch of her eyebrow struck a smirk from him as he shook his head, "Well no, I didn't expect to run into you I suppose."
"Ah, trying honesty I see."
"Well for now at least," Eliot admitted as she moved away from the washer. "You done with this?"
She glanced to him for a moment before nodding, "It's all yours."
Eliot smiled in return, and set the bag of his own dirty laundry down to the floor before glancing into the washer. A piece of black fabric was stuck up toward the front of the washer, and at first glance Eliot assumed it was a sock, but when he pried it free the shape came unfolded and Eliot nearly dropped it. Coughing to clear his throat he glanced toward Bela, "I think this is yours."
He didn't hold it up, instead he moved his hand with some decorum to simply slip it into her hands. Bela however opted to muse over it for a moment, holding the pair of black panties up for a moment. Eliot watched her, mostly, with a look of curiosity. He could figure out most women within a few minutes of meeting them. He might be wrong some of the time, but he at least had a general idea of what made them tick. There was still something about Bela that made him wonder why he couldn't figure her out yet. Raising an eyebrow he questioned her, "Not yours?"
"Oh, no, they are mine." Her smirk... it was dangerous and Eliot was quickly at least learning that. "I was just seeing what you reaction to them was. Though you were watching me, not them."
Eliot chuckled, "Well, that's true. Though if we're trying honesty here, at the moment they're just fabric. They don't really make me react until they're either on a woman, or about to come off."
The way she pursed her lips, wasn't anything that gave him the thought that she was thinking she was above him, it was -- something else -- another thing he hadn't figured out about her yet. Eliot turned away and started to toss his own clothing into the washer, now that it was empty. Once the bag was empty he tossed that in as well, knowing he'd be bringing his clean clothes back to his room in it. Soap went in, and the dial was turned and pulled to start the wash. Leaning back against the table he regarded her again, the once out in the open panties now tossed into the dryer with the rest of her clothing.
Folding his arms he smiled at her, "So you do your laundry all the time?"
"Every Friday evening."
"I'll remember that, for next time," Eliot replied smirking at her, knowing that he'd be doing his laundry on Friday nights from now on.