I wake up earlier than her, so I have time to make some breakfast.
Everytime she wakes while I am cooking, leans on the wall next to the oven, wearing nothing but the shirt I was using last night.
"How come you cook shirtless? - That's so unusual"
"Did you ever expect anything ordinary  when you pass through that door?"
"How can you be so poetic so early?"
"How can you not be?"
She laughs, I smile.
I set the food on the bed for her. I lay down by her side with my arms caressing her hair.
"Won't you eat?"
"I'm ok."
She giggles, I stare.
The tangles through my fingers, so mahogany, sometimes almost crimson... Maybe I am color blind, maybe I am making myself a fool again. Yes, a fool again.
"You know, if you keep on doing things like that I might get used to it, maybe come back more often."
"You won't, you are too afraid for that."
"Must you always be so real?"
"Why should I not be? Would you be here at all otherwise?"
She smiles, I laugh silently.
We shower, I dress. I sit in the couch staring through that no curtains window for half an hour or so, rain always makes me smile. I guess that's why I indulge myself to another storm.