I woke up to the soft rays of sunlight streaming through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. Elena was still asleep beside me, her dark curls spilling over the pillow. Her face looked serene, a picture of peace and beauty. I smiled, feeling a rush of love for her. Sundays were our days, and I wanted to make this one special.
I carefully slipped out of bed, trying not to wake her. I headed to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. As I cracked eggs into a bowl and whisked them into a frothy mixture, I thought about how much I loved these quiet moments.
The sizzle of bacon in the pan, the aroma of fresh coffee brewing, and the soft hum of morning birds outside—all of it combined to create a perfect, domestic bliss.
Once everything was ready, I set the table with care, arranging the plates and cups just so. I placed a small vase of flowers in the center, adding a touch of color. I wanted everything to be perfect for her.
