CHAPTER SEVENTEEN : i********: and Honey
~Zella's POV~
The dishes weren't going to wash themselves.
That was the thought I had pulling on something more comfortabl, skirt , an oversized top, the version of myself that existed when nobody was performing anything. Practical. Useful. The kind of thought that didn't require examining anything else.
I went back to the kitchen.
Evander was at the sink already, jacket off, sleeves rolled up, running water like a man who had been cleaning up after himself for a long time and had no particular feelings about it.
"You don't have to," he said.
"I know." I picked up a dish towel. "Move over."
He moved over.
We cleaned up in the quiet that had developed between us over two weeks, the kind that didn't need filling, that wasn't uncomfortable, j
