Chapter 201. It's Missing a Mirror

It was the second afternoon, and I turned around in Colt’s bed to find him humming under his breath as he cleaned the suite himself.

In my sleep, I had heard him cleaning the living room downstairs, progressing upstairs to the bathroom, and now he was mopping the floors of the bedroom. 

Quietly, I turned fully on my side to watch him, naked chest glistening with sweat, the mop stick looking like toothpick against his big frame as he hummed a familiar tone from Imagine Dragons, carefully sweeping the wet mop across the floor and moving towards the bed.

I marveled that he cleaned his house himself, and seemed to be enjoying the hell out of it. 

In the last two days, he made every single meal we ate, cleaned, and insisted on bathing me and caring for the cracks on my skin.

He loved to work and it puzzled me. Was it one of those quirks people who were born into wealth had? 

From the moment I became Auclair by name, I almost never did any chore