“Alright, let’s see... Pancakes, bacon, eggs... and, of course, coffee. Black, just the way she likes it,” I muttered to myself as I moved quietly around the kitchen. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a soft, golden glow through the windows. The apartment was still and quiet, save for the low hum of the coffee machine and the occasional sizzle from the stove.
I cracked a few eggs into a bowl, whisking them gently as I glanced over my shoulder. She was still asleep, tucked under the covers in our bed. I couldn’t help but smile, knowing she’d wake up to the smell of breakfast—her favorite. Mornings like this had become our little ritual, a way to start the day on the right note before she dove into her demanding work at the hospital.
As I cooked, my mind drifted back to the time before we were together, back when we were just talking on social media. We weren’t lovers then—just two people who found comfort in late-night conversations. I learned a lot about her through those chats, including her less-than-ideal morning routine. She rarely had breakfast, often skipping it because she was either too busy or just didn’t feel like eating.
I remember teasing her about it, trying to convince her to grab something, even if it was just a piece of bread. But she was stubborn. “I’ll eat later, Lovey,” she’d say, brushing it off. I could never understand how she managed to get through the day without a proper meal in the morning. Even then, it bothered me to think she was starting her day on an empty stomach.
It wasn’t until we moved in together that I finally had the chance to change that. I made it my mission to make sure she had breakfast every morning. Slowly, she got used to it, even started looking forward to it. Now, it’s our little morning ritual—something that brings us closer together every day.
I poured the eggs into the hot skillet, the familiar sizzle filling the room as I flipped a few strips of bacon next to them. The smell was heavenly, rich and savory. While the eggs cooked, I grabbed the pancake mix, carefully measuring out the ingredients. Cooking for her had always been something I enjoyed, a way to show my love in the simplest of forms.
As the pancakes began to bubble, signaling they were ready to be flipped, I reached for the coffee beans. I could never forget the coffee. It was her lifeline in the mornings, a small cup of comfort before the chaos of the day. I took my time preparing it, grinding the beans to the perfect consistency, the rich aroma filling the kitchen. Once the beans were ground, I placed them in the filter, pouring hot water over them slowly, allowing the full flavor to bloom. The rich, dark liquid dripped steadily into the carafe, promising a strong, bold cup.
Just as I was setting the coffee to brew, I heard the soft padding of footsteps behind me. I turned, a smile spreading across my face as I saw her standing there, still dressed in one of my oversized t-shirts, her hair slightly tousled from sleep.
“Good morning, Love,” I greeted, my voice warm.
She smiled sleepily, her eyes soft with affection. “Morning, Lovey,” she murmured, her voice still thick with sleep.
Without a word, she walked over to me, wrapping her arms around my waist from behind in a gentle backhug. I felt her press a kiss to the space between my shoulder blades, and a wave of warmth spread through me.
“You always know how to make mornings better,” she whispered against my back, her voice muffled but filled with gratitude.
I chuckled, turning in her embrace so that I could face her. I leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “It’s all part of the service,” I teased, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “Besides, I couldn’t let you go to work without a proper breakfast, Doctor.”
She smiled up at me, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “You’re too good to me, Pandak.”
“Only because you deserve it, Bansot,” I replied, returning to the stove to flip the pancakes onto a plate. I added a few slices of bacon and a perfectly cooked egg next to them before placing the plate in front of her at the kitchen island.
She slid onto the stool, eyeing the food with appreciation. “You’ve outdone yourself this morning,” she said, reaching for the fork.
I grinned, grabbing the carafe of freshly brewed coffee and pouring her a cup. “I aim to please.” I placed the mug in front of her, knowing she loved the first sip of her morning coffee more than anything. “One black coffee, just the way you like it.”
She wrapped her hands around the warm mug, bringing it to her lips and taking a slow sip. Her eyes fluttered closed, a content sigh escaping her. “Perfect,” she whispered, and I couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride.
I joined her at the island, sitting beside her with my own plate. As we ate, I couldn’t resist teasing her a little, cutting a piece of pancake and holding it up to her lips. “Open up, Love.”
She rolled her eyes playfully but obliged, opening her mouth as I fed her the bite. “I could get used to this,” she said, her voice light and teasing.
I chuckled, offering her another bite. “You already are,” I pointed out, leaning in to steal a quick kiss. Her lips tasted like syrup, sweet and warm, and I couldn’t help but linger a moment longer.
After a few more bites, I glanced at the clock. “Time’s ticking, My Love. I’ll get your things ready while you shower. You need to get to the hospital on time.”
She groaned, reluctantly pushing her plate away. “I know, I know.” She downed the rest of her coffee in one quick gulp, standing up from her stool. “You’re too good at making me want to stay in bed all day, Lovey.”
I laughed, standing up to kiss her one last time before she headed off to the bathroom. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” I said, giving her a gentle nudge towards the shower. “Go get ready, Doctor. I’ll have everything ready for you.”
As she disappeared down the hallway, I turned back to the kitchen, tidying up the breakfast dishes with a smile. This was our routine, our way of showing love in the little things. And as I prepared her work bag, setting out her stethoscope and ID badge, I felt that familiar warmth in my chest, knowing she’d start her day with a full stomach, a full heart, and the knowledge that she was deeply loved.
Because that’s what mornings were all about.
