He Made Me Breakfast

You didn't ask. That's the whole thing right there. You didn't ask, you didn't hint, you didn't make a comment about being hungry and wait to see if he'd pick up on it. You were just... still in bed. Maybe half asleep. Maybe scrolling your phone. Maybe staring at the ceiling doing that thing where you're awake but your body hasn't committed to it yet. And then you smelled it. Coffee. Something warm. Something that meant someone was in the kitchen thinking about you before you'd even said good morning. He just did it. Because you were there and he wanted to and it didn't occur to him not to. No scorekeeping. No waiting for credit. No announcement. Just a plate appearing on the nightstand like the most quietly loving thing in the world. Warm. Sweet. Homey. The scent of someone who shows up in the small ways that turn out to be the biggest ways. Place it in your warmer. Gently. Just like he handles you.