β hey, you. β the greeting speaks of recognition and warmth in tandem : i see you, in body and soul. we are kindred spirits, birds of a feather, a unit against the steadfast force of the open world. morning sunshine spills bountifully unto an abode of their own making and his smile is easy, a lazy display of contentment. it's a call over his shoulder, focus committed to chopping board. the rhythmic slice of knife through fruit, metal meets wood, parting flesh in its wake. the drumbeat of his cutting feels like a harbinger. the day is young.
β eggs ready for you in the pan, just how you like 'em. β he nods in the direction of aforementioned breakfast, tousled curls mussing with the gesture : winces, as knife edge nicks his thumb. the damage is minimal, nothing but a pearl of blood blossoming on the pad, sucked away and forgotten about. the house's first menial assault. like a man drowned, it thirsts.
β how'd you sleep, you want a coffee ? β
β‘ @wfflehouse : meredith.
