You awake with the light streaming in through the sheer, white curtains. Stretching your limbs and looking to your left to him warmed your heart. His dark brown hair, falling slightly over one eye; his full lips slightly pursed in his slumber; smooth cheekbones and lines from every smiled he cracked when you told him one of your ridiculous, sleep-deprived ideas or silly dad jokes.
You stood up and found one of his shirts on the floor, buttoning just a few for decency and crept your way into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. The two of you were in Florence for a romantic summer away. Douglas was taking a sabbatical from filming for the next year so you'd both moved out to sunny Italy for a few months. The flat you were renting was quaint, an open plan kitchen and living room, warm chestnut wood covering every surface, plants, books and older trinkets you had picked up throughout your relationship were in every nook and cranny of this beautiful flat.
As the coffee started you looked down on the rug you were standing on, a beautiful floral design on a cream woven base. You'd remembered when the pair of you bought it; it was a beautiful Saturday morning when you and Doug had decided to go on a walk through Camden Lock and get a warm drink and some breakfast, looking around the stalls and small music shops as you did so. Then suddenly, it was like the sky had broken in two and the torrential rain started. Seeking shelter, the pair of you ran into the nearest shop, a small handmade rug store. Giggling at what had just been, you begin to look around, with Doug holding the small of your back as you ran your hands over the different materials, until you stumbled upon this very one. It reminded you of the one you had in your grandma's kitchen when you were small.
Hearing the pot begin to whistle, you snap out of your happy flashback and are drawn back into reality and take the pot off the stove. Taking two small mugs out of the cabinet, you feel two hands wrap themselves around your middle and a sleepy head rest on your shoulder. You stop what you're doing to turn your head slightly, receiving a kiss on the cheek. Giggling at Douglas's sleepy, loved-up antics, you squeeze his hands and turn in his arms, wrapping yours around his neck.
"Good morning, sleepyhead," you say.
"Mmm, hello," he replies giving you a lopsided smile with his eyes still closed.
Turning back around, you ask, "Coffee?"
"Always, thank you, darling."
"Open the balcony doors will you, love, need some more light in here now that you're awake."
Begrudgingly as he wished to stay with you in his arms forever, Doug does as asked, opening the doors and allowing the light to fall into the small flat, illuminating your soft features in the morning. He can't stop staring as you perfect both of your coffees to exactly the way you both love it, grab the packet of cigarettes on the side and walk over to him, setting the coffees down on the small metal table you keep out there.
"What?" You ask softly as you begin to sit down and light your cigarette.
As you exhale Douglas looks at you with all the love a lover could ever hold in their heart for someone. He brushes your hair slightly out of your eyes, kisses your forehead and lightly shakes his head with a soft smile that seems permanently planted his face.
"Nothing, darling, thank you for the coffee." He moves the other chair to sit adjacent from his lover and puts one hand on their leg as he lights his own cigarette.
Music from down the street can be heard flowing throughout the small town they've decided to reside in for the next few months. Content and happy, the lovers are in peace, paradise.
