Dust & Desire – Episode 9: Dust Settled, Desire Eternal
Dust & Desire – The Summer Housekeeper
The house felt different.
No more dust. No more silence. Just the sound of waves and the lingering scent of Selene’s perfume on every surface.
Theo stood in the doorway of her room, watching as she packed.
A single suitcase.
“Didn’t bring much,” she said softly.
“You’re leaving?”
“I was hired for the summer,” she replied, folding a white sundress with delicate care. “And the summer’s ending.”
Theo stepped into the room. “You don’t have to go.”
Selene looked up, her expression unreadable. “Are you asking me to stay… or just not ready to say goodbye?”
He didn’t answer right away.
Instead, he walked over to the dresser and opened the top drawer. Inside was the manuscript. Her manuscript. Their story, inked out in raw words and smudged fingerprints.
“I wrote the last page,” he said. “But it didn’t feel like an ending. Just a pause.”
Selene crossed the space between them, slowly, barefoot.
“What did it say?”
Theo met her eyes. “She didn’t just clean his house. She rearranged his life. Every room. Every inch. And when she left, nothing felt like home except where she’d been.”
Selene took the pages from his hand. Then she pulled her shirt off.
No words.
Just skin, bare and willing. Her mouth on his. Her hands on his belt.
This time wasn’t like the others.
There was no frenzy. No roughness.
Just slow, aching need. Her riding him gently on the bed they never used before. Her hands pressed to his chest. His fingers tangled in her hair.
She cried out his name when she came. Once. Then again.
Afterward, she rested her cheek over his heart.
“Tell me to stay,” she whispered.
“I can’t,” Theo said.
She tensed.
He kissed her forehead.
“Because you were never hired. You belong here now. With me.”
Selene looked up, eyes glassy.
“I don’t clean for just anyone, you know,” she said.
“I know.”
She smiled. “Good. Because I’m not leaving.”
They fell asleep tangled together, windows open, the sea breathing with them.
And when morning came, the house didn’t feel empty anymore.
It felt… written.