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Theseus hums a song as he waits for his laundry to finish its cycle. It’s late, and the laundromat is deserted except for him and his bin of slightly wrinkled t-shirts. He’s lost in the almost-silence and the whirlpool of colors in front of him but his attention is drawn to the door with the bell rings out. His first instinct is to smile at whoever is entering. His second instinct is to stand in a flurry of surprise and uncertainty.
Titania doesn’t move towards him, remaining in front of the door with her hands in the pockets of her gingerbread colored overcoat. She stares Theseus down with an unpleasant but otherwise unreadable expression. She doesn’t say anything, either, so he speaks instead.
“It’s easier, isn’t it?” he says, gesturing to the washing machine. “I actually enjoy doing my laundry now. I mean, when I remember to do it.”
“Why are you here?”
He falls silent and she still makes no move to come closer, but she watches him intensely. She’s still wearing the white button up of her school uniform but she has a dark green sweater vest and gray pants on. It was strange to see her in such normal clothes, and he figured he must look equally strange to her for the exact same reason.
“I could ask you the same,” he says. His voice falls in volume and he watches the washing machine vibrate. “The last time I saw you—we buried you, Titania. You were dead, and now you’re…”
“I’m hurt you think so little of me,” she scoffs. “It's upsetting you thought I was dead–.”
“You were dead,” he shoots back. “I saw you, you were covered in blood, you didn’t have a pulse–.”
“We’re getting off topic,” she says. She finally moves and stands in front of Theseus. He leans against an unused washing machine and subconsciously on a loose thread in his black turtleneck. “Why are you here?”
“I don’t know,” he says. She narrows her eyes and he holds her gaze. “I don’t know, Titania. I swear.”
A beat.
She clicks her tongue and breaks eye contact. He allows himself to relax, if only slightly, and in the same moment, Titania hits him hard across his face. He sputters and his cheek throbs in pain. His glasses nearly fall off of his nose, slipping far enough down that Titania becomes a slight blur. He feels her grab his gray coat and yanks him forward. He pushes his glasses back up in time to see the tears forming in her eyes as she grits her teeth at him.
“You…” she starts. She pushes the crown of her head on to his chest while her grip remains firm on his coat. “I’m glad,” she eventually mutters. “I’m glad you’re here.”
Theseus wraps his arms around her back and squeezes her tightly. “Thanks for the warm welcome,” he teases. Then, under his breath, he adds, “I’m glad I didn’t lose you.”
This time, he’ll keep holding onto her, so even if Titania goes somewhere again, Theseus will go with her.