Isobelle
I cradled a mug of steaming hot tea between my hands as I waited for the boys to come home. The early morning air bit my skin with its chilly teeth. Jets of white vapor billowed from my mouth like dragon’s breath. If it wasn't for the heat seeping into my palms from the tea, I would have darted back indoors and not tortured myself out here on the porch. Fast-moving clouds hid the sky from view, dragging a light shower of rain across the forest. I blew the steam from my tea, creating a ripple effect across the light brown liquid.
Grayson came out to join me, holding a patchwork blanket over his arm. He shook it out, then draped it around my shoulders.
"I've changed the bedsheets again. I don't think they've ever been washed as much in a month as they have this week," he joked.
