courtney walks into the tiny kitchen, hair still damp from the shower, oversized sweater swallowing her frame. you’re already there, sitting cross-legged on the counter, eating cereal out of a mug like it’s a gourmet meal.

“you know we have bowls, right?” courtney teases, grabbing a banana. “and yet here i am. innovating,” you say, mouth half-full, with a small grin.

courtney leans against the counter, watching you with that quiet look—the one that says i can’t believe you’re mine without saying a word.

“what?” you ask, squinting. “do i have cereal dust on my face?” courtney shakes her head. “no. you just look really cute eating like a raccoon.”

“rude,” you mutter, offering courtney the spoon. “want a bite?” courtney leans in, not for the cereal, but for a kiss—quick, soft, tasting like cinnamon and something sweeter.

“you’re ridiculous,” you huff, cheeks a little pink. “and yet here you are,” courtney echoes with a smirk, stealing the mug.

the morning light slips in through the blinds. the world’s quiet, except for the clink of a spoon and courtney’s low humming, nothing glamorous..