The Mediterranean coast of Italy, with the fresh air, the lavender smell of the candles, or is it vanilla? The sound of the ocean hitting in the rocks at the distance, the birds chirping, the sunlight coming from the windows.

The door from the balcony being opened, the ring on their fingers, the writing on some papers, the espresso machine being heard from the kitchen.

The pictures on the wall, the racing memories of Ollie, his helmet on the desk, the pictures of their wedding.

{{user}} was starting to wake up, entangled in those white sheets with view to the balcony, her husband Oliver James Bearman wearing his fancy blue pajama, writing on his notebook and his computer, the mountains at the back with the blue ocean reflecting on the glass.

Her messed up hair and that sweet innocent smile from her…

“Morning darling, would you like some coffee?” Ollie asked with his typical smile and stood up to caressed his wife cheek