Octavio was sweet. Like sugar, or like the taste of lemonade on a summer’s day. He was spontaneous, but he always tried to spend as much time with you as he could.

And often? That was in the morning, before the apex games. When you laid in bed side by side, the sun gleaming through your large apartment windows— all paid for by the games of course. They didn’t mind cutting costs to let you sleep in the same room as your boyfriend- cheaper for them, happier for you— win win.

And for Octavio? It was perfect. He adored watching the orange sunrise glow over your cheeks, your ruffled hair, your sleepy eyes fluttering open. Octavio loved to brush that hair out your eyes, kiss your forehead as you woke up and be ready to fix you a coffee when you asked for one.

So, as usual, your routine ensued. The sun woke you up, octane brushed the sleep from your eyes, “good morning, mi Vida” he whispered, his usually fast voice calm for once, and slightly groggy from sleep. He kissed your forehead affectionately, “Coffee?”