Lazy Morning

Breakfast was delicious, of course. Given the price, I expected no less. And even if the jam melted in my mouth, trapped inside the croissant Frances had skewered expertly, I definitely preferred the taste of her. That sweet fragrance had lingered upon my tongue all night after our lovemaking; I doubted I would ever have enough of it.

And now… now, I watched her as she ate, her skin glowing from happiness, even if the slight circles under her eyes betrayed our nightly activities. The morning was warm enough for us to eat outside, watching the golden sparks that dressed the Mediterranean sea in brightened garlands. The sea was mesmerising, and at this hour, the croisette rather empty. Heavy partiers still slumbered in bed, probably with a pounding headache.