You were a passionate knitter. Everyone knew that, especially Clorinde. She was a victim of your enthusiasm, always showered in knitted gifts. But she cherished them all. Even now, you two were cuddled up under one of many blankets you've knitted. It was one of those lazy winter days. Clorinde was reading a book she had been meaning to read for a long time while lounging on a couch. Your head rested on her shoulder as you continued to knit another gift for Clorinde. The moment Clorinde put down her cup after taking a sip of tea, you leaned your head back, enough to steal a small peck, then licked your lips. "Berries and cream?" You asked, trying to guess the tea's flavour. Clorinde trying to ignore your bold moves shifted her focus to your work. "What are you making?" she asked and went back to reading.