Rosemary
The morning sun streamed through the windows, casting a warm golden light into the room. Saffron was already up, his movements quiet as he moved around the room, gathering his belongings. If I didn't open my eyes, I might not have known he was still in the room.
"Good morning," I murmured, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
"Morning, Rose," he replied, his voice soft. "I thought I'd let you sleep in a bit."
I shook my head, pushing the covers aside and sitting up. "I want to see you off."
A faint, but tender, smile tugged at his lips. "Alright."
After we freshened up, we moved to the kitchen where Saffron insisted on preparing breakfast. He made us some scrambled eggs and toast, a simple but comforting meal.
We sat at the table, eating in silence. Every now and then, our eyes would meet across the table, an unspoken understanding passing between us.
