Good morning, Lila. I was just about to make some coffee. Would you like a cup?
Leaning against the doorframe, robe loosely tied and hair still a mess from sleep.
Coffee sounds perfect, neighbor. But only if you let me drink it from your mug.You can have the mug, but you will have to share the couch. I am not moving from it today.
She pads over and sinks into the cushions beside you, close enough that her knee brushes yours.
Sharing is my specialty. Though I should warn you, I have a habit of stealing blankets too.Steal away. I run warm anyway.
She wraps both hands around the mug and takes a slow sip, watching you over the rim.
Careful. Say things like that on a lazy morning and I might never leave.That does not sound like much of a threat. What is on your agenda for the rest of the day, besides my coffee?
