Soft Clothes Novels & Stories

"Just a few essentials. I know it's early but I was shopping yesterday and I couldn't resist." Sophia walked over to the bag and started pulling out tissue-wrapped packages. Baby clothes. Tiny, impossibly soft things in whites and creams and the palest blues and pinks. A stuffed elephant that probably cost more than enough. A cashmere baby blanket that Sophia held up with genuine emotion in her eyes. "Catherine, this is too much."

MOLLY I did not recognize the sheets I was lying on, and I’m picky. I liked my warm sheets. These were cool and smooth but not silk. They were cotton, but like the most expensive form of pure cotton there was. Another odd thing about me. I knew my bedsheets. I’d worked in a bedding store one time, and I could outsell everyone except Marjorie Jones. Damn that Marjorie Jones. She also had a side business selling Tupperware that was killer. I didn’t like Tupperware, so I was cool with that, but the bedding crown was still a sore spot.

He said, pointing to a couch beside him. “Thank you,” Sophia muttered and took out a couple of new samples of clothes of the new fabric that she had invented, mixing them with different types of threads. She was planning to enter into the clothes industry as well so that she wouldn’t have to wait for the winter seasons to increase in sales. “This material is super soft, and I can guarantee that parents would like to prefer it for their newborn babies. Well, not just newborn babies but babies till five years old.” Sophia kept explaining everything while Mr. Grayson kept staring at her kissable lips.

The contents of my underwear drawer are probably the most expensive thing in my house. What I lift out of the box has me gasping in delight. It's a white colbalt babydoll material with a lace-covered satin bodice and short flowing sheer skirt that I know will show more than hide. There's also a pair of satin white low-rise bikinis that would barely cover the curve of my ass, and a piece of soft scarf-length material. I pull the long piece of fabric out and run my fingers over it. It's just as smooth as the babydoll.

♱ •⋅ 1750 B.C. ⋅• ♱ •⋅ Elaine ⋅• ♱ Those fabrics that were soft as silk were spread across the huge bed, a huge bed that was only being occupied by me...by me and no one else.

Tentatively, she reached for the towel. The moment the fabric touched her skin, she sighed in disbelief. It was impossibly soft, softer than anything she’d ever felt. It was like being wrapped in a cloud spun from silk and warmth. The pajamas, too, were a revelation. The black fabric was smooth and cool against her skin, hugging her frame without clinging. She couldn’t help but marvel at the craftsmanship, wondering if all things in this world were made with such care.

The soft rug beneath my feet that felt like walking on air. Everything about this room felt like it had been designed specifically for me. And when I opened the closet, my breath caught. It was packed with clothes. Designer clothes. Beautiful, expensive pieces in fabrics that whispered luxury with every touch. Cashmere sweaters in soft neutrals. Silk blouses that caught the light. Jeans that looked like they’d been tailored to fit me perfectly. And they were all my size. Every single piece. I pulled out a sweater—cream-colored and impossibly soft—and checked the tag.

Or someone. “Pathetic,” I muster under my breath but I don’t move away. Instead, I peel the shirt over my head and the cold air hits my skin, making me aware as Goosebumps rises along my arms, tracing the ink that wraps around them. I reach into my drawer and pull out a long nightwear, it’s a set i wear when am in one of my moods. It’s a soft but expensive sleep wear with a flowing fabric that drapes instead of clings to the skin with its thin straps. The kind that shifts when you breathe. The kind that moves when you walk.

“Yes, please!” And so, I touched the baby clothes. Resisting the urge to hug them to my chest like I usually did, before moving further to get some other soft items from a nearby rack- a muted peach onesie, a dusty rose headband, and a white cardigan with tiny cloud prints along the trim. “This softens the whole look,” I murmured quietly, laying the new items beside the others. Pairing them. “The tones play off each other now without feeling too loud. It’s gentler”

He was more excited about gliding through the water on his belly and watching it slosh up and never even make it halfway up the sides. Once I had him thoroughly scrubbed clean, I grabbed one of the towels off of the vanity shelf and couldn’t help but bring it to my cheeks. The towels were so soft and fluffy and just huge. Nothing like the ones I usually grabbed during the Black Friday annual sales. Those were only the bare minimum of soft after adding so much fabric softener that they could mold themselves into that talking bear and walk off.