Loving you was like the amber of morning rays, came through those triangle windows in the kitchen filled with aroma of morning coffee. A cup of your favorite black coffee and a cup of mine, cappuccino. It never served without baked croissants nor almond brownie i cooked. Instead of watering the plants, you clinged to me like a glue while i was busy with the kitchen stuff.
It was nice when you put your head on my shoulder. It felt like you were sharing the burden you've tried to carry alone. The next routine, we drank our coffee with bliss.
We talked a lot of things like a silly joke you watched last night, my failed new recipe, a stripes bow tie your father gave you, a powder on my pink floral apron, a bunch of dark chocolates you would like to buy me, and how you loved the smells of the sea.
Morning was always our best 'us time'.
The rays have always been shining the backyard of our house, shimmering the wild flowers we picked then planted it between the unpretentious dandelions.
The rays have always been shining the backyard of our house, shimmering the wild flowers we picked then planted it between the unpretentious dandelions.
