Coffee Conversations

32- Coffee (the scent of)

I groan, rolling over dramatically. My hand reaches out, finding only empty sheets beside me. I peel my eyes open, frowning gently at the vacant space.

It hadn't been a dream, right? He was here, with me.

I press my nose into the sheets, inhaling his soft scent as memories of last night come flooding back to me. I shudder suddenly, swearing that I can still feel his fingers running through my hair, stroking down my back.

That's all that had happened. I'd invited him to stay and he had. He'd held me close, his magical hands running over every part of me with a delicacy that left sparks in their wake. Laying in his arms, held and protected from the world, had been like a dream. But it was real. I'm sure of it.

I pull myself up reluctantly, sliding into a pair of jogging bottoms and pad out into the living room. I peer around, everything perfectly in place and frown. There's a light humming sound emanating from my kitchen, a delicate clink echoing through the empty rooms.

I follow the gentle sounds, pausing at the edge of my kitchenette as a smile creeps onto my lips.

Blue is stood in the centre of the room, in nothing but his boxers and completely in his element.

I watch in amusement as he moves between the counters, humming softly to himself as he goes to extraordinary lengths to recreate my daily coffee order. He handles my coffee machine like a pro, the air bitter and warm with the scent of freshly ground coffee beans.

He gently warms my coconut milk on the stove, frothing it with rapt attention as he moves through the motions of this one coffee with religious care and devotion. The soft morning light that pours through the window bounces off his hair, causing it to gleam against his pale skin. I watch as he brews a double espresso patiently, paying extra attention to not allow any grounds to slip into the drink.

He roots through my collection of mugs, glancing between them indecisively until he settles upon my favourite. It's a large, wide mouthed mug that is in the shape of a pumpkin, perfectly depicting my love of the Autumn months.

He drizzles caramel sauce, which I shamelessly keep hordes of, inside the mug before combining the coffee with the warm milk. I watch as he tips it into the mug, drizzling the top with caramel too before running a tissue along the outside rim.

He steps back, looking at it before nodding to himself and I feel my heart swell with affection.

I step forwards, unable to stay away from him for a moment longer. He jumps as I glide my hand across his back, his startled expression turning to meet mine.

"Morning." I murmur softly, smiling as his features melt at the sight of me.

"Good morning." He mumbles, his arms reaching for me automatically.

He draws me close, tucking me against his side as his lips press against my hair. The warmth of his body and the smooth, firm lines of his chest against mine feel like heaven. I can't get enough.

"I made you a coffee." He mentions and I smile.

He didn't just make me a coffee. He made the simple morning ritual look like art.

"I saw. Thank you." I say, reaching for it.

I take a sip, humming to myself at the taste. It's perfect.

I glance around the kitchen, noting that he's put away all of the dishes and wiped everything down too. Everything is spotless, just the way I keep it, and I smile helplessly at his attention to my way of living.

"You have an amazing coffee machine. Why the hell do you waste your money at Starbucks when you could literally make it at home?" He asks, his tone puzzled.