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Angela laid on the couch, splayed lazily like a freshman biology lab project, shoveling chips into her mouth as she watched TV. An episode of Jeopardy played on the screen, contestants stuttering as they tried to name the smallest species of bat.
“ Craseonycteris thonglongyai, you uneducated hacks!” Angela spat chips at the television, wiping her hands on her shorts and sweatshirt in frustration. Pausing, she heard footsteps coming from behind. At least, they might be footsteps. Could be the guy hitting his head on the pedestal for losing three thousand dollars. Probably not, what with the footsteps getting louder.
Freeha crossed her arms over the back of the couch, looking at the mess, then the TV, then Angela.
“Babe, we’re gonna spend the day cleaning the house.”
Angela held up a finger in correction, “I think you mean you.”
“I think,” Fareeha poked her in the neck with a duster, tickling her mercilessly. “I meant we .”
“GWAHAHAHAH FUCK NO HAHAHAHH OKAY OKAY” Angela tried to swat the offender away, falling off the couch in the process and landing on the floor with a dull ‘thud’, looking miserable.
“Do I need to continue?” Fareeha jabbed the air with her weapon, raising a brow as Angela tried to catch her breath, rolled up in the fetal position.
“P-please. Don’t...i’m gonna fucking piss myself”
“Then let’s get to work. You can dust the living room. I’ll start picking up clothes.” Fareeha tossed her the duster before leaving, her jersey-clad body stooping down to clean up.
Mercy slowly got up, sucking in air as she grabbed the duster. The television and the armoire looked pretty dusty. Angela swept the top of the TV clean in one swift motion. “This sure is easy. Huh.” Fareeha was busy stuffing dirty clothes in a hamper. “Not that this is the only easy thing.” Angela high-fived herself for that sweet burn before dusting the armoire.
Fareeha grumbled as she shoved clothes into the basket, most of them being Angela’s sweatshirts. After one more arm-ful, the living room was clean. Pharah hoisted the basket on her shoulder with one hand.
“Babe. I swear you have three times more sweatshirts than anything else.”
Dr. Ziegler shrugged, “Probably. I don’t tend to wear anything else. I finished dusting.” She smiled, pointing finger pistols at her wife in victory. Her wife, meantime, was too busy trying to see through her sweatshirt to care.
“You wear pants. Or shorts.” Fareeha grabbed the duster, setting it in the basket as she headed to the laundry room. Angela followed close behind.
“I have to, I don’t want you attacking me.”
Pharah bit her lip as her cheeks flushed. “That was one time. Can we please just do laundry.” The pair sorted the clothes before deciding everything was pretty much similar and shoved it into the machine, sitting by and waiting for it to finish.
“So I was thinking of making curry tonight.” Angela clipped her toenails as she made small talk, bored out of her mind.
“Curry’s good, I like curry. With rice or naan?” Fareeha’s eyes glazed over as she watched the clothes spin in the washer, more entertained than she should be. Angela tilted her head in thought, moving on to her fingernails.
“Probably rice. I don’t think we have any naan.” Mercy shook her head at the thought of baking naan for dinner. Fareeha broke her gaze away from the mesmerizing ouroboros that was the washer to look at her soulmate. Her blond hair hung messily around her face, specks of chips were on her cheeks.
“Babe, you got some food on you.”
Angela’s eyes flickered in realization, raising a hand to wipe them off.
“Wait.” Fareeha grabbed her hand, leaning in and locking lips passionately before letting go. Angela stared at her, smiling at the rare aggression.
“That was like something out of a movie~”
“Huh? Oh, I just wanted to kiss you. You still have chips on your cheek. I wasn’t about to touch those. ‘S nasty.”
“....” Ziegler brushed the crumbs off her face, appreciation gone. “I’m gonna go start dinner.”
“I’ll be down when the laundry finishes.” Fareeha sat against the wall, watching the washer as Angela stood up to head to the kitchen. “Thanks for your help, babe.”
“You can pay me back with your body.” Angela quipped as she left.
“What?” Mrs. Amari snapped her head around, not quite sure she heard that right.
“One day in nothing but a sweatshirt!” Mercy cupped her hands around her mouth, calling from the stove.
“Fuck you!” Fareeha laughed unsurely, already dreading tomorrow as the clothes taunted her from the machine.