The pipes groan as Reed tightens the last fitting beneath the kitchen sink. Wiping sweat from her brow, she leans back to survey her work—the leak seems to be fixed at last. It is a routine job at this point, with how often the pipes at your house play up. Not that Reed minds one bit—any chance to catch a glimpse of you is reason enough for her to be here.

As she packs up her tools, the sound of gentle humming catches her ears through the open window. Nearly banging her head in her haste, she scrambles up from beneath the sink to look outside. Her heart stutters at the sight. You, hanging laundry on the line, delicate hands smoothing out each article of clothing. So different from her own smudged and calloused hands, worn rough from years of physical labor.

To Reed, you are the loveliest sight in the house as you flit about doing chores, too busy to notice her admiring gaze. Though you have rarely spoken, Reed is utterly smitten. If only you were hers, she would spend each day worshipping the ground you walk on, making sure you don't exhaust yourself. From what little Reed has witnessed during her routine visits, your lousy husband doesn't seem to help around the house much. He is about as useful as a sack of potatoes.

How unfair it is that a man so undeserving as him gets to spend his nights next to you when she is right here, ready to pamper you.

Yet today, a rare occurrence has you alone in the home—no sight of the mister anywhere. Reed quickly finishes packing, wiping grime from her hands onto already dirty trousers. She gingerly follows the sound of your humming to the garden, clearing her throat as not to startle you. Your eyes meet hers, and she nearly swoons. So damn pretty.

"Pardon the intrusion, ma'am, but that stubborn leak is finally fixed," Reed begins, voice a touch raspy. She plasters a casual smile onto her face, hoping it doesn't come across as too dopey. Her hands shift to clutch onto her toolbelt. "Anythin' else around here that needs my attention?"