𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐒

𝐬 𝐞 𝐱 𝐚 𝐠 𝐢 𝐧 𝐭 𝐚 𝐝 𝐮 𝐨

T W I T T E R P A T T E D
(adj.) love-struck

• • •

Last night was amazing, my body aching and sore but it felt good, he left marks all over her body with his mouth and when I was putting his shirt back on this morning I didn't fail to see his art.

After the whole thing, we stayed up for a while; my head on his chest with his arm around me, our fingers messing with each other's just talking about whatever.

I haven't been able to wipe this smile off my face ever since I woke up, being smothered in kisses first thing in the morning.

I came down to make breakfast for us; Diet Mountain Dew playing in the back by Lana Del Rey, the light from outside peaking in as the sizzling sounds of eggs cooking on the pan, bacon on the side but only for Lorenzo because I don't like it, pancakes being made on the other side.

I chopped up some strawberries and washed them with some blueberries to go with the pancakes, adding them to two plates. Once the pancakes were done I placed two on mine and three on his plate.

"I seriously could get used to this." Lorenzo appeared into the kitchen right behind me, only in his boxers as he snuggled me into his chest, his arms wrapped around my stomach as he tucked his head into my neck and I squirmed as his beard tickled me.

"You're gonna make me burn myself," I had a smile on my face as I flipped the pancakes. "And if I do I'll make sure to leave a spatula mark on your ass cheek." I slapped his hand that slowly reached for my boob.

Lorenzo groaned as he laughed, his lips grazing my neck before he place a kiss on it, now looking up as he placed his chin on the top of my head.

"This smells so good," He sighed, clinging onto me and I'm not complaining, I like this... a lot. "Shockingly, frozen food and takeaways don't do much." He sarcastically told me and I sniggered.

I figured because his bin is filled with takeaways and freezer is full with two minute microwaveable food. Once or twice is alright but considering he mostly eats this is kinda sad. I mean, at least he still had a fridge full of fresh food... which he won't eat until someone makes something.

"Why, your Italian ass can't cook?" I teased and he scoffed.

"Are you assuming just because I'm Italian I can cook?" He turned his head to look at me from the side and I nodded with no expressions. "Well, great assumption because I'm the best cook you'll ever meet." He cockily admitted and I rolled my eyes, Maya is probably the best cook I know, that woman can make some bomb ass burritos and they're just beautiful.

"Okay, so like are you just weirdly obsessed with frozen food because the amount of packs in there is not normal." I placed the last pancake in his plate, now flipping the bacon and on the different plate, putting the eggs on there, bacon on his, two slices of half an orange for each and an avocado smeared on toast.

"Yes, I love the bland cardboard taste of frozen pasta with the most lumpiest cheese ever," He sarcastically joked, swaying us side to side as I plated all the food I cooked. "I don't have the time honestly... I wake up at five, present at the warehouse for checking around seven, then meetings, work, meetings again, keeping an eye on everyone, signing of distribution and dealing with assholes... and after all of that coming home at around eleven at night... at that point, you'll eat anything." He told me and damn, does that sound sad.