Work Text:
"Shit." I jog home as the watch displays 8:54 pm.
My boss kept us for a late meeting as we had a project that is due next Monday and now I need to get home as soon as possible to get my laundry and make it to the laundromat before it closes at ten.
My usual twenty-seven-minute walk home only takes sixteen. And thank God I wasn't too lazy yesterday to prepare the laundry bag so I quickly grab it and head to the laundromat. It's only a seven-minute jog there so I think I can make it. I still have time.
The place is empty when I get there which is good so I get some baskets and walk to the washing machines immediately starting to load them depending on colours and fabrics, I then add the detergent and softener and start them. It was an easy job as I already know which pieces go together hence I sorted them last night so I would finish faster.
As the motors turn, I walk to the vending machine, getting myself an espresso as I wait. It was a little cold here as it was not packed with people. I look around as I take a seat waiting. There is not even a worker here, the place is creepily empty unlike usual. Well, I haven't been here at night though so maybe it's always like that.
I get my phone to keep myself busy texting some friends and checking my notifications as I hadn't time for that all day. Jason, our group clown, was sending some memes making me cackle. That guy is hilarious, I don't even know where he finds his memes. The loud thud that scatters the silence makes me snap my head up, when I do though it doesn't seem like it's the only thing that snapped at the sight.
There she was rushing in, a green short fringe sticking to her forehead as she panted. It seemed like she was running here. Her chestnut hair was pulled back in a low ponytail, and more green strands were falling around her face. I love the boldness of the colour and how it was only on her fringe and a few threads on the sides.
"That was a hell of an entrance." That's stupid I know but I can't just say "hi" and have that awkward conversation.
She looks at me and then chuckles, okay I'm in love already.
"Oh, sorry about that," she keeps strolling to the washers opening two, filling one with black garments and the other with white, "was afraid I wouldn't make it."
"Don't worry about it, was the same a few minutes ago." I look at her as she gets busy with her laundry, she is wearing a white top, grey pants with suspenders hanging and black sneakers with black socks. She appears like a simple type of person. "I really love your hair."
"Really?" She looks at me seemingly baffled.
"Yes, it's amazing. I've only seen it on social media and never seen anyone bold enough to do it if it wasn't for TikTok." Sincerely, I say.
"Wow. Thank you!" She smiles and it seems genuine like she had never heard that before.
"Did no one tell you that before?"
"Well, not in that way, some girls seemed to like it but most boys thought that I was a lesbian." She rolls her eyes. "As if hair colouring is what defines sexuality."
"Oh, I know all about stereotypes. I often get those comments in the office when I wear something that seems " homosexual" to them." She scrunches her nose at that in the cutest way I have ever seen.
"This really sucks." She starts the machines when she is done loading them.
"Yeah. I'm Martin by the way." I stand up and walk toward her extending my arm.
"Melissa." She shakes my hand. Her hand is soft. Her light skin contrasted with my dark one perfectly.
"You've perfect lashes. I can't reach that even with mascara." She said making me smile wide.
"Oh, yours look just fine, they're the perfect volume, in my opinion, not like overdone or something. I'm not really an expert but they look great." At the start, I was focusing on her lashes but I don't know how I have gotten lost in her eyes. They are that perfect hazel colour with some dots of green which would definitely shine under the sunlight. I think I can also see some freckles on her cheeks, but they are barely noticeable. The blush however is very evident now on her milky cheeks.
"Thank you. I really appreciate your compliments." Her smile looks genuine again and some crinkles appear by her eyes. How can she be this perfect?
I smile taking a step back to not invade her personal space and seem like a creep after staring that much. "They are not compliments, only facts."
She only waves her hand and changes the subject. "What are you doing here this late?"
"You can guess." Her reply comes instantly, "work?" "Definitely, you?" "Same."
"You're suited up so I believe you had a meeting?" She makes a cute expression as she tries to guess and I can't bring myself to look away.
"Yeah, late meeting to work on a project that is due next week." She scrunches her nose at that. "That sucks."
"You've no idea. Unless that's what you were doing too."
"Oh no, no, never. I can't work in an office. I'm also still at college so I work part-time in a library, today was one of those busy days so I had to put the books back and clean up the place." She moves her hands around as she explains.
"I'm not really a fan of books so I'd say that I prefer what I'm doing to that. Also, libraries are too depressing to me." She looks offended as I say that making me chuckle. "Oops, I think I'm in trouble."
She chuckles back. "Just don't say that again, please."
I raise my hands in peace. "You like chocolate?" She gives me a weird look like she's wondering what the hell am I talking about. "Just tell me." She nods so I walk toward the machine getting her a hot chocolate.
"Here," I give it to her, "I hope this makes up for it."
And she chuckles again. I think my heart skipped a beat.
She accepts the cup with a soft "thank you" and takes a seat so I do the same, keeping some distance.
Soon my washers come to a halt so I pick up my clothes and put them in a basket to load them again in the dryer. I haven't spoken to Melissa as I didn't want to disturb her and she didn't say anything as she sipped her chocolate watching the washers spin. That was a bummer though because I truly like her and would like it if we go out on a date so we can get to know each other.
When my clothes are dried, I try my best to be sluggish as I unload them so I can get more time with her. I even fold them before neatly putting them in the bag, which is something I never do as usually I just stuff them in it and throw that bag on the armchair in my room to use as a closet. Thus, by the time she is done stuffing her clothes in her bag, I have just zipped mine.
I casually walk to the door and I hear her steps following behind. I try to be a gentleman and pull the knob to let her out first but it doesn't pull, the door seems to be locked.
"Oh no." I try pulling and pushing it but to no avail. It is definitely locked.
"What's wrong?" She looks at me as she is now by my side trying to pull the door open.
"I think it's locked." I check the time. "Well, it's nine past ten but there's no way they would close the place without checking in first, right?" I look at her.
"Supposedly, yeah." She adjusts her bag on her shoulder looking around.
"I'll check if there is anyone here." I take a few steps back to head to the staff's room.
"Okay." That's all she says and I do just that.
"It's locked." I walk back to her after trying to pull, push and knock on the door.
"How the hell do they do that? That's so irresponsible." She seems a little furious as she paces around a little.
"Hey, it's alright. I will call the cops and we will be let out in minutes. Please calm down." I fetch my phone out of my pocket as I realise how shitty this situation can be and how she must be feeling trapped here with a stranger. Especially since I, for one, am a man and secondly, I'm black.
I certainly know that my race and gender have nothing to do with that but for some people it means danger. And even though Melissa didn't seem racist or stereotypical, the panic can bring out the worst in people, especially those buried feelings.
As I look at her after I dial 911 and put it on speaker, she looks totally calm and composed which makes me sigh in relief. And when an officer picks up, I explain the situation and they tell us to wait as they will send someone.
I sit down as we wait and she does right after with only a chair separating us. "Are you claustrophobic?" She asks with a soft tone. I shake my head. I never thought about it and I certainly don't feel bothered right now.
"Oh, good. You seemed a little unsettled so I thought you were."
"Honestly," I look at her, "I was worried you would feel unsafe here with me."
Her look hardens for a second as she looks at me. "What? Why would I?"
"Isn't that obvious?" I look at her and her reply comes immediately. "I thought I made it obvious that I wasn't a stereotype or racist I guess."
"You did but," I shrug, "I know that most women don't feel safe alone with men they don't know, well, especially if they were black too."
"That's nonsense. I mean sadly it is true but it shouldn't be that way. This world is too judgy." Her answer makes me smile involuntarily. It warms my heart to know that she didn't feel any threat from the situation.
"Would you go on a date with me?" I hope she says yes.
"Thought you would never ask." She chuckles fixing her fringe.
"As if it's that easy to ask a girl like you out." I smile seeing how she hooks her fingers together.
Everything about her is fascinating. And if anyone thinks it is because it's our first meeting then I would love to say that nothing has changed after I walked her home that night, took her on a date the next Friday and celebrated our first anniversary a year later. And even when we moved in together and were able to finally afford a washing machine we still preferred to do our laundry in the laundromat, where it all started.