When John shuffled out of the bedroom the next morning, track pants and t-shirt heavily rumpled, Sally was already up, carefully navigating the kettle and cupboards in search of a cup of tea. She glanced over as John yawned and stepped into the kitchen.
“Sorry I didn’t ask,” she said quietly. “But I was dying for a cuppa,
(
Read more... )
Comments 77
Reply
Reply
Reply
Thank you!
Reply
Reply
I can't promise something specifically in this vein, but about eighty percent of what I write tends to be shameless fluff, so...
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment