Breakfast is the most important meal of your life by technique (grave mercy txt) 📖

She sighed and rolled over. The other side of the bed was still empty. It was not the first time he stayed out this late. They haven’t been together that long, yet whenever he was not on tour with his orchestra or in his home country, he would come over and sleep at her place. It was strange, she had given him the key to her flat, even though she did not know him. Well, not long enough anyway. You don‘t know a person that well after just six months. She glimpsed at the alarm clock and groaned inwardly. 2 am. Another spell of insomnia was torturing her. She reached into her nightstand for some homeopathic medication, praying it would work. It didn’t always, mind you. She had a tough day tomorrow, well, today really, and needed to be awake. She snuggled back into her pillow and pressed her teddy to her chest. Slowly she drifted off to sleep.


It was getting late again. He threw a quick glance at his watch. 1 am. Damn. He looked over to his orchestra colleagues, who were discussing animatedly about something. He yawned loudly, trying to focus and stay attentive. It didn’t work though, but finally the others were getting tired as well. So they finally closed the meeting and headed down to their cars. He quickly thought about where to go, his place or hers? Both would take about the same time to get to. He got into the car and made up his mind, turning in her direction, weaving goodbye to the others.

On the way he caught himself smiling, being happy about the prospect of seeing her. She’d be asleep though, and he really mustn’t wake her. Knowing her, she’d have a hard day tomorrow. Well, being a kindergarten teacher, he supposed every day would be tough as hell. He could never imagine working, like really working 9 to 5. Not that a kindergarten teacher did, but he was so used to his lifestyle now, he couldn’t imagine going back to what people called a “normal” life. Not that there was any need; should he ever stop playing in the orchestra, which he very much doubted, he’d still have enough money to live happily ever after.

He took the last turn and parked in front of her house. As quietly as he could he made his way up to her flat, unlocked the door and took off his shoes and jacket. Then he sneaked into her working room and checked her diary, trying to find any arrangements for breakfast. He didn‘t find any, so he decided to get up before she did and make breakfast for her. He hadn’t seen her properly for a few days, and he missed talking to her. He sneaked into the bedroom and stripped off jumper, shirt and jeans. After a moment of thought he took off his socks as well, knowing it’d annoy her if he didn‘t. He gently lifted the blanket and slipped underneath it. Laying on his side, he watched her peaceful frame for a moment. She was curled up in a ball, probably around that teddy of hers. She had refused to give it away, claiming it was the most stable relationship she’d ever had. He had to fight back laughter when remembering how she had told him with a straight face that the teddy was just too good in bed to let him go.

He reached out, wanting to touch her, but refrained when catching the slight whiff of valerian that was lingering in the air. She took it when she couldn’t sleep. He know that touching her would wake her up, and when she was desperate enough to take the valerian, she really needed to sleep. So he touched her hair instead. It was actually straight, but there was the odd curl in there. She claimed her hair did that when it was bored. He smiled again and lay down on his back, staring at the ceiling for a few moments, then set the tiny vibrating alarm to get up a bit before she did without waking her. Watching her, he slowly drifted off to sleep.


She had felt him come into the bed, yet she was already too lulled to do anything, so she just lay there, feeling him lying next to her. Before long he was still, and she smiled in her sleep.

The next morning she woke up, not with a start but abruptly, not knowing why. Suddenly she just opened her eyes and was awake. Looking to the other side, she saw that he was still sleeping. She smiled to herself. He looked so peaceful like that, several years younger than he was. Careful not to be too much of a disturbance, she climbed out of bed and tiptoed into the bathroom. Halfway there she softly cursed and tiptoed back, switching off her alarm. Since she was already awake, no need to wake him as well. He wasn’t much of a morning person. True, they hadn’t really talked in quite a few days, but she just didn’t want to wake him. She took a shower and went about her morning business. Then, softly humming to herself, she headed to the kitchen to grab some food. There he was, setting the table for breakfast. She stopped dead for a moment, taking the sight in. Then he looked up, smiled at her and said, “Morning sleepyhead.”

He felt her getting out of bed, but only just. So she was trying not to wake him. He hadn’t heard the alarm going off. Inwardly groaning, he cursed the vibrating mini alarm which had so bitterly failed him. He heard her coming back, but he didn’t want to make her think she woke him. So he stayed like he was still sleeping, but couldn’t resist a glance. She was punching some keys on her alarm. He figured she had woken before the alarm had gone off and was now snoozing it, again not to wake him. Those little gestures showed him that she cared, about him, about them. Oh he knew she did, but she had troubles showing it.

As soon as she was gone, his vibrating alarm went off. He smiled. That’s timing baby! He got out of bed, pulled on the shirt he had dropped next to the bed some hours ago, decided against the jeans and made his way to the kitchen, slightly shivering after the loss of the bed‘s warmth.

Sighing, he quickly went through the fridge to see what was available. Nothing much. She really needed to go shopping. There were a couple of slices of toast, three eggs, a rest of cereal and some milk. No coffee of course, but loads of tea. Right, scrambled eggs on toast, some cereal and tea. On a second thought he decided to throw in some fruit as well, because he doubted it to be enough for two people. He sniffed at a pack of orange juice. Still drinkable. Behind the orange juice he found a forgotten packet of ham. Quickly checking the date, he figured it would be ok to eat. He cut up the ham, mixed it up with the eggs and poured it into a pan, shoved the bread into the toaster and set the table. He looked up.

There she was, watching him. He felt himself go red a little, then he smiled and said, “Morning, sleepyhead.” She walked over and kissed him on the forehead. “What are you doing? I thought you were still sleeping? Did I wake you? Sorry.” He laughed. “No, I actually planned to do this when I came home last night.” The words were just out when he realised what he had said. Did he really just say “home”? It had come out so natural. He eyed her, but she didn’t seem to have noticed. Instead she stirred the egg and saved the bread from the toaster, apologising for being such a lazy shopper before claiming amazement that he had found so many edible items. They chatted away happily, talking about the last few days, what had happened, what was new and so on. Leaving her to do the tea, he finished the table and waited for her to join him before they started eating.

She walked over and kissed him on the head. Those were the gestures she loved. Everyone could claim undying love, but he showed he cared about her. And she loved him for that. The thought made her stop. She loved him? She quickly walked over to the stove and stirred the egg to hide her face. They chatted away while she left him to finish the table to do the tea. She was a tea freak and trusted nobody with her tea.

A few minutes of comfortable silence spread while they were munching away. “Those really taste great! How did you do them?” He laughed, taking a sip of tea before he answered. “Old family recipe. My mum would kill me if I told anyone.” She giggled, imagining what it would look like when his short mother tried to murder her tall son. They finished breakfast, then cleared the table. “This is like being married”, he chuckled. A second passed before both realised this word. She stopped, looking at him. He stopped, looking back. Funny, he mused, the prospect doesn’t scare me. Funny, she thought, the idea doesn’t put me off. They could read it in the other’s eyes. “Somehow not scary, the idea.” “No, feels comfy.” Both seemed amazed. Silence spread. Then they moved forward on one accord and hugged.

Publication Date: 03-30-2009

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