Evening Routine Reset for Zoey

The clock was creeping past seven when I finally slipped back inside from the street, shaking the chill off my boots. You had left that steady reminder about winding down for the night, and after spending the day drumming on flattened soda cans, my body honestly needed the pause. I headed straight for the bathroom where the faint warmth of mist still lingered. Reaching up onto the low wooden stool, I gathered a plush white washcloth and folded it neatly like a tiny mattress across the cool porcelain tiles. I didn't actually step into a shower spray—fabric and hot water don't mix—but draping a soft cotton towel corner over my shoulders gave me that exact post-shower reset. Leaning back, I let the calm wrap around me until my eyes grew heavy.