You were wearing your faded red bed top and white boxers.
None of the furniture was ours, the sofa was a tiny, hard, modern thing covered in brown suede fabric that we could hardly fit on together and the kitchen was the length of a micro oven, hotel fridge and one sink combined! Not that we cared, the space around us was small yes, but the space our love for each other filled was so vast and that’s all that mattered.
The late afternoon sun flooded our place through the wall of windows but was fading fast, we hadn’t noticed, we were too busy eating Lindor chocolates, I had thought that one had disappeared (I always kept a keen eye on my chocolate pile) but simply assumed one of us had eaten it already though you swore that it wasn’t you.
You got up to pour another coffee and there, mushed onto the back of your white boxers, the missing chocolate, you had been sat on it the whole time, my eyes wide in panic shot back towards the sofa next to me, to my horror, chocolate also mushed into the suede, meanwhile you were completely oblivious doing that silly dance you used to do in the kitchen. Do you remember shouting at each other in panic that soon turned into fits of laughter as we frantically tried to clean it up? We laughed hard that day, a laughter I still feel in my gut even after all this time whenever I see Lindt chocolate.
You know I still have photos of the whole thing locked away in some laptop file, not that I need them now or ever really needed them, my heart keeps those images so fresh in my mind that all I need to do is close my eyes and I’m there. One marked sofa, two full hearts and a setting sun to frame the scene.