Sunday Mornings
Intro: -Faith Hill, 'This Kiss'- Ah. Now we have another drabble. Bittersweet or angst? I'm bad with classifying my own stuff…(or am I?) Well, onward-ho! (pumped)
A/N: I don't think they have these breakfast foods in their world…
Raenef passes the pancakes as Krayon delicately pours syrup over them. The honey-blond male says nothing about last night's toss in bed. Instead, the Demon Lord of Egae complete his breakfast's core with powdered sugar, honey, sliced apples and glaze, and a cinnamon drizzle. There are charming clear bottles filled with assortments of sugar and spices on the white tablecloth. All the food is of the finest quality and the utmost delicatessen. A giant crystal pitcher holds freshly brewed, strawberry-tea. The sweet scent of fresh, morning mist floats through an open window complemented by shamrock-green plants dripping droplets of water from last night's shower.
Across from the table, Raenef raises an eyebrow in question. Krayon is now poking at his eggs and biting the tips of the bacon. He always says he can't afford too eat bacon lest he gain weight which presents the irony. Raenef chuckles silently. There is a table plant filled with roses and lilies and tiny buds of violets. Silver forks and knives dance about the table in a beautiful waltz as the two companions eat. Raenef sighs, deciding he can't eat. He folds his arms and leans back into his seat. He sips the tea wordlessly as it puffs into a cloud of moisture, keeping last night a secret.
They wish that mornings weren't so awkward; that they could speak of last night's incidents and the consequences that might befall them. Yet they just sit there – Krayon eating food he knows he shouldn't and Raenef sipping his steaming tea.
I wish I could make you mine…
Afterthoughts: Wow. I centered the font this time… Why the Hell did I do that…? I like the final line centered, but everything else gives me a head-ache… (holds head)