slowly hugging his waist, a smidge of gold on a left hand catching the sunlight. all this “coincidentally” happening (as if it hasn’t been a routine for the past 10 years) once he’s already served their coffee in two matching mugs

feeling a little kiss on the bridge between his shoulder and his neck, curly hair tickling him from behind, a deep voice nosing his ear and whispering a sweet “good morning” making it impossible for him to even try and suppress a fond smile.