The cold sun of February still sleeps when she wakes up.
She cuddles a bit more with the warm body next to hers and then the day starts. Just like every morning.
Somewhere behind the buildings, the sun starts to send its first shining glimpse and the sky quickly becomes a weird combination of grey and pink. The boring unisex colour grey the warm magical pink intertwine their bodies in a morning hug. So good together.
She takes a deep breath and tries not to pay attention to the traffic. It’s just like every morning. Singing with the radio, her hands are dancing on the wheel.
The day starts.
A short text message from him “Did you get on time, hun?”
She smiles “Yes, babe. You?”
“Yes. Enjoy your day, hun. I love you. Kiss.”
“Love you too babe. Hugs.”
Lazy briefing in the office.
The computer’s on.
At the lunch break, she goes to the shop around the corner to get something for the evening. What could it be? Heart-shaped boxes, heart-shaped candies, heart shaped-cups, cards, wooden messages, ring-for-sex, bring-me-a-beer socks, teddy bears, I-love-you bears, I-miss-you bears, be-mine bears, who-knew bears…
Another text from him “I forgot my lunch box in the fridge this morning. 🙁 xxx”
Sighs with a smile “Go and get something to eat. xxx”
“Too much work now, maybe later.”
“Don’t stay hungry babe.”
“I won’t. Love you, will text later.”
“Love you. Hugs”
A lazy afternoon of a busy day.
No one cares. It’s Valentine’s Day.
The names of flowers, jewellery brands, whispers of lingerie-surprises, wine and regret that it’s Wednesday.
Secret text messages.
Roses peeking out behind the cars’ windows.
Smells of petrol and chocolate.
Christmas spirit in the middle of February.
Cupid spirit in the middle of cold evening wind.
A blanket on the floor.
Five candles – one for each year together.
Flowers in a vase next to the window.
A glass of wine.
Smells of peach.
Season 3 of favourite series.
I love you.
Just like every evening.