The storm was over. My clean clothes were folded on the coffee table. I picked them up and managed to stagger to the bathroom, leaning my left shoulder heavily against the wall and using my right leg to bear most of my weight. The house was spotlessly clean, which I found kind of funny. Did he have a vampire maid service to come in and tidy up for him? Or was Reeve just really OCD about cleanliness? I swept and mopped my entire house once a week out of habit, but his place looked like someone had scrubbed every inch of the floors with a toothbrush. Reeve must have done a thorough cleaning- and regular upkeep- after moving in. I ran my finger along the shelf below the bathroom mirror and shook my head when it came away clean. Huh. My hair felt dirty and greasy, and all I wanted to do was take a shower and wash it again, but there was no reason to do that here, now that the sun was shining and I could go home.
