Damien is making pancakes.
He's in the kitchen, moving around with a cookbook in his hand. He turns around to see me perching myself on the counter.
"Good morning." He says as he passes an apple. "That should keep the doctor away."
I bite on the apple, wallowing in confusion.
"Aren't you late for work?"
"Work can wait." He smiles. "I have to make breakfast for my wife."
"I can't remember the last time we sat down to have breakfast together." I frown. "Does this mean you're not mad at me anymore?"
"Dani, I missed you. And I can't stand not talking to you." He gets closer. "Now open your mouth for me."
He gives me a bite of the pancake. It's perfect. But not as perfect as his eyes when they watch me as I savour and swallow.
"Delicious!" I comment.
"Not as delicious as your lips."
