Theo woke up that morning to the sweet, smooth sound of Roy Orbison floating through the house. They took their time getting out of bed, stretching every muscle in their body, working their way up from their toes to their fingers. Then, taking a deep breath, they slid out of their sheets and planted their feet on the soft carpet. Taking in the cream walls and the movie posters and the various useless yet charming nick-nacks, Theo let out a satisfied sigh and thought about Zoe, dancing along to the music downstairs while she made breakfast, until he couldn't wait to see her for any longer.
Silently sprinting down the stairs like a toddler going to sneak a peek at their Christmas presents before their parents wake up, Theo caught a waft of the pancakes and vegan bacon cooking in the kitchen. When he stealthily opened the door (nothing was better than watching Zoe dance and hum when she thought she was alone), Theo grinned and yelled over the music,
"Special occasion?"
They laughed when Zoe leaped back, wide eyed and briefly confused like a defensive rabbit, before taking her in their arms. Together, the couple swayed along to the radio and Theo traced their fingers over Zoe's shiny brown skin reflecting the golden light of an early Sun until they reached her fingers, which laced with their own.
Soon, they were dancing and laughing and ignoring the scent of burning pancakes. Everything was peaceful and drowsy and content like a daydream.
