Love breakfast

Setting the Table

They clear a small corner of the desk and turn it into morning: two plates, two pairs of chopsticks, and two iced coffees wearing pink sleeves. The symmetry makes them smile. Breakfast doesn’t have to be fancy to feel like care—just warm food placed within reach and the quiet pause of a shared seat.

Little Morning Rhythms

One of them straightens the napkins while the other nudges the plates to face the same way, as if aligning a tiny compass. Savory pancake rests under a sunny egg; strips of ham flank the edges like friendly borders. The arrangement says, “Here’s yours, here’s mine,” and also, “We’re in this together.”

First Bites, First Words

They trade the first tastes—crisp corner for a soft yolk bite, salty ham for a chewy piece of pancake—and decide the best order to eat everything. Conversation arrives in small spoons: a dream half-remembered, a to-do they can finish quickly, a tiny joke that makes coffee taste sweeter. The clink of chopsticks becomes their metronome.

Coffee Plans

The iced coffee is a bridge from sleepy to ready. He suggests a short walk after breakfast; she counters with a playlist and fifteen minutes of tidying. They settle on both. It’s the gentle math of two people: add time together, subtract hurry, multiply what feels good, divide what’s left so neither carries too much.

A Tiny Tradition

By the last bites, the plates look like maps with their favorite places visited. They agree that pancakes and eggs will return next week—maybe with a different sauce, maybe on the balcony if the weather behaves. The ritual is the real meal: two plates, two cups, a little morning ordered just enough that the rest of the day can wander and still find its way back.