"Now, how can you expect me to cook with you looking like that?"
I looked down at myself. I knew I probably looked ridiculous, but Elara was far from normal.
After a brief inspection, I looked back up at her.
"Then where are my clothes?"
"In the wash." I blinked, surprised.
Those clothes had been through a lot with me. I hadn't expected them to be treated so kindly—let alone this quickly.
"They won't be dry until tomorrow."
"I've already dried them. Just wear... that, for now."
That… hadn't even crossed my mind. Still, standing around with my legs exposed, dressed in nothing but her shirt, made me restless.
I asked for my things again, but Elara ignored me, turning back to the stove. She told me to stay put while she finished.
"Is there anything I can help with?" I asked.
"Just sit down."
That was probably for the best. I knew nothing about cooking. I lived on takeout. Even during my part-time jobs, I had avoided kitchens like they were cursed.
