Sharmaine was on her way to Denzel's mansion with the driver after a long day of work. Denzel was sick yesterday, so Sharmaine took over his work today. By the time the day was over, she felt tired—no, exhausted—but accomplished, for everything surprisingly went well. Suddenly, the car stopped at the entrance.
"We're here," the driver said.
"Oh, thank you so much." The driver nodded and left Sharmaine standing in front of the door.
"You're home quite early than I expected," a manly voice said as soon as she entered. It was Denzel, sitting on the couch watching a TV show.
"What're you doing there? "—she removed her shoes and placed them neatly to the side—"May I remind you that you have a fever and you were supposed to be resting?".
Denzel glanced at her and switched TV channels. "I am fine now."
She paced through the living room and found a mess in the kitchen. There were egg splatters everywhere, the sink was filled with dirty dishes, and the utensils on the counters that had residues from vegetables that seemed to have ended up in the garbage bin.
"What is this?!" she exclaimed, "How come the kitchen's so messy?"
Denzel walked in, leaning against the wall with crossed arms. "Well, I was trying to make lunch, but failed to do so."
Sharmaine glared at Denzel. "Why don't you clean up?"
Denzel did not reply, but his eyes was merely filled with laughter and jeer. She left the kitchen and calmly went upstairs before letting out a loud grunt.
"Ugh! More work?"
She changed her clothes—obviously borrowed again—and threw her suit to the dirty clothes basket beside the study table at the corner of the room, which Sharmaine had only noticed a while ago.
"Using my clothes again?"—Sharmaine turned around—"Why not use yours?"
"That's because my belongings are still at Q city, and I am quite busy to go back the at the moment thanks to a certain someone."
"I prefer if you watch your mouth."
She hissed before leaving the room. Downstairs, the only thing Sharmaine could hear was the sound of the TV. She grunted yet again before stomping to the living room to turn off the television.
This was such a long day, she thought as she scrubbed the counters and the sink while uttering bad comments about Denzel—how careless and irresponsible he is and so on.
She was starting to sound a like a mom complaining about her child's mess. Halfway through her cleaning, Denzel went to check on her.
"What is it?" Sharmaine asked.
"I ordered my people to gather your items at Q city, so they should be here by tomorrow."
Sharmaine glanced on him. She didn't know what to feel nor what to say. It just felt generous because Denzel saved Sharmaine's time, effort and money.
"Thank you," she said and laid her focus back on cleaning.
"I checked my temperature today, and I am quite fine now."—he began to generate a more serious tone—"I should be able to go back to work."
Sharmaine replied in a cold but respectful way possible. "Suit yourself."
Denzel stood at the side to watch Sharmaine clean the cupboards, dishes and floors. He knew that he made a mess but he never expected this much. He looked more tired today, he thought.
Sharmaine, on the other hand, was still feeling annoyed; she thought that after a long day of work, she can finally rest, but then ended up doing chores as if she was not just an assistant. While Sharmaine washed the dishes, Denzel walked slowly towards her and suddenly wrapped his arms around her waist.
"W-What are you doing?" she asked while being flustered.
She never thought that a serious and bitter man like Denzel could hug her—and in his eyes, she was a man! This guy must really have a fetish on men, Sharmaine thought as she felt Denzel's warm arms. He still had a slight fever but not as worse as last time.
"My mother said that if she ever gets tired, hugs make her better so—"
She was surprised and disappointed at the same time. "Still! I am a man, you know."
"I see, so you're not allowed to hug others the same as your gender?"
Sharmaine could just imagined herself slapping her cheeks, for she can't believe Denzel's ignorance. "That's not what I mean."
Denzel squeezed Sharmaine's tummy even tighter. He might feel my bandages if he squeezes even tighter, she thought, so using her remaining strength, she unclasped herself from his hug.
"T-That's enough," she said with burned cheeks and a pounding heart, "Please go to bed, you will be going to work tomorrow."
"Oh yeah, speaking of work, how was it?"
"Well,"—Sharmaine continued to wash the dishes—"I sorted out your schedules for the month and the board members seemed to be disappointed that you weren't able to attend the meeting this morning."
"Ahh, the board, I bet they were happy though."
Sharmaine deepened her thought on what Denzel just said. How come the board would be happy if they told her that they were quite disappointed when he wasn't present in their meeting a while ago?
"What do you mean?"
"Nothing, I'll be going now."
"Sure, good night," she said as Denzel left the kitchen and went to his bedroom.
Sharmaine sighed in relief after an hour of working. "Ahh, finally! I can rest after a very long day."