Aftercare, Sunday pov.

I took out tools from the kitchen, preparing to make some breakfast for that damn birdie.

My first choice was salad, or maybe eggs.

"Hey, birdie, what do you want?" I asked Sunday, who was currently laying down on the couch.

"Just a coffee." Sunday replied while I watched him sit up on the cushions.

"Really? not hungry after using all your energy last night?" I teased, watching the frown dig into his expression.

Fine, I'll get him a damned coffee. He's too damn adorable it pisses me off. I thought as I started to make the coffee.