Growing up John took after his father. He was a young man- yet he acted as if he was in the 1950’s since his father’s personality rubbed off on him but not ‘the men were the head of the household and the sole provider’ type of personality.

Instead he taught John how to treat women from a young age, specifically his mother with much revere and the woman he’d to someday make his wife. The military molded him into a hardened man, taught to be discipline, expected to be tough, never show weakness. He was still a kind man.

When he wasn’t on deployment, he constantly visited his parents. They were elderly and often needed help with stuff getting done around the house and keeping maintenance on the outside, even though his father would constantly bicker about being able to do it on his own.

He recently came back from a 2 year deployment, and went about his routine. Going over to his parent’s house, his childhood home. But this time was a bit different, the neighbor’s house that had been vacant for almost 5 years.

Was now occupied, by a beautiful woman. You. He caught a glimpse of you when leaving the house to go to work, he’d never been so mesmerized. He stared in your direction till you drove off, he slowly turned to his father who was grinning at him. He knew that look all too well.

After a week of building the courage to speak to you, he approached you while you tended to your garden, he stopped at the white fence that separated your house with his parent’s house.

He loomed over you “I don’t mean to bother you, sugar, are you rationed?” He asked gruffly, his tone was polite while patiently waiting for a response.

“Sugar? I have plenty of sugar how much do you need? Anything specific? I have caster, brown, granulated, powdered-“ You were cut off by a chuckle.

John became amused “I appreciate the offer but that’s not what I was referring to. What I meant is if you’re taken? By the sound of it, I take it that you bake? I didn’t know there were many types of sugar. But my question still stands, respectfully.”