My dear lireeli, I'm so sorry I'm too late.
I hope you had a wonderful day with all the love you deserve! (and you deserve a lot)
I wish you all the very best for the coming year.
Thank you for being such a wonderful friend!
Here's a little something and I hope you'll like it a bit *fingers crossed*
Love and huuuuuuuuuuugest belated birthday hugs,
Title: Morning hours
Nights were intense. Immense. Funny. Playful.
In these early morning hours he feels like a drunken sailor, can’t stop smiling, can’t stop dreaming, too.
He wants to scream and shout … and sing.
The increasing whistle of the old tea kettle breaks the morning quietness.
Together with the cold wind whistling through the open window it feels like taking a cold shower.
Pouring hot water in a tea cup he can’t remember a day without this familiar sound. It was one of his grandma’s heirlooms – nothing valuable but dear to him, reminding him of precious days he had spent here.
Smoothing the cracks along the neck of the kettle, the colour bleached now light blue with cornflowers on it … it belong to his mornings like the light of the dawn.
The world outside is still asleep, the sky amazing – light grey creases light green wiped across the tress like moist dust. The soil smells like herbal bread when he steps outside with this cup of hot steaming peppermint-honey-tea in his hands.
He loved mornings like this.
He looks around and he is proud of what they had done. It was a good decision to buy his grandma’s house. They had worked hard to make it to what it was now without changing too much.
It looks modern and a little bit old-fashioned at the same time.
The porch with the swing had always been his favourite place where he had spent much time when he was a child. Swinging he and his gram sung children’s songs for hours. It is a pity that he doesn’t remember a single one. He starts humming a familiar melody – oh yes, those were good times here.
Nearly as good as time is now.
Small warm hands are hugging him from behind.
“Good morning, love …” a sleepy murmur, he feels Casey’s head resting on his back.
“Good morning, Casey…”
They don’t need much words - they never do – warmth, peace and love envelops them.
So many years they are together now.
Casey’s hair along his temples has grown white, nearly as white as his.
He can’t believe that is was 40 years ago they become friends, confidents, lovers.
Grateful for every single day he’s given to him with this extraordinary man Zeke leans into his arms, enjoying the silence, listening to Casey’s breathing – he’s surprised how much he loves him.
Zeke turns around, holding his breath– Love is when I look in your eyes and I know that I am all you see – he whispers.
And Casey … feels the same. He tells him this. Touch by touch, kiss by kiss,
Day by day.