The air of the cool spring evening fills your lungs as you walk home from work. Up the several flights of stairs you trudge, weary from work, but excited for the evening. Demy texted you and she is out of her work on-time tonight. She said she had a special, romantic evening planned and you know that after such a rough week cleaning dishes, nothing would make your Friday night better.
You open the door to find her already inside.
Her long blonde hair rolls gently over her slim shoulders, waving in the air as she turns to greet you. Her wide smile and bright blue eyes fill your weary soul with comfort. A loose tank-top and shorts are all that covers her thin frame. She's not even wearing a bra, you notice. At least she's making herself comfortable.
The cool air from the evening wafts in through the window, contrasted by the heat billowing from the oven. Demy sets a timer and takes off her oven mitts, running over to wrap you in a warm hug.
"No regrets about giving me a copy of your apartment keys, I take it," she jokes as she kisses you on the lips. "Dinner, maybe a movie. A perfect evening right?"
You look around and see your apartment is spotless; certainly not how you left it this morning.
"And you cleaned too," you muse. "When did you have time for that?"
"Because," another Demy says, walking out from the bedroom. "I split."
The second Demy wraps her arms around you while the first returns to the kitchen.
"I told you I was getting the itch to split," she says. "I've been saving up for months. I could probably split five or six more times tonight... if you want."
"What could I do with eight of you?" you ask, feigning innocence.
"Well, I made extra dinner," the first Demy says.
"Come on and rest on the couch, ${name}," a third Demy says, coming out of the bathroom. "Let's relax while Demy finishes cooking dinner and Demy finishes cleaning."
You sigh as you sit down on the couch next to Demy. These evenings always get a little confusing.
Demy wraps her arms around