Notes Between Seasons

Morning light filtered through the curtains, soft and forgiving. Anya stretched luxuriantly in the warmth of the duvet, her arm wrapped around Elias's waist. The quiet apartment carried the residual hum of last night, a faint echo of laughter, the lingering scent of garlic rice and basil chicken, and sheets still fragrant with their shared heat.

Elias was already awake. He propped himself on one elbow, gazing down at her with a sleepy smile. "Morning," he murmured, voice deep and mellow.

She yawned, eyes fluttering open. "Morning… did we fall asleep on schedule?"

He chuckled. "If by schedule you mean 'when we finally passed out', then yes."

They lay together, soft and still for a few seconds, soaking in the glow of post-nightlight intimacy. Eventually, Anya pushed off the covers and sat up. "So we were supposed to go for that walk and brunch?"

Elias stretched, bare torso tauting, ribs, abs, gentle lean muscle. "That was the plan."

She propped her chin on her knees, scanning the kitchen hallway. "I think … we're out of food."

He grimaced. "We thought we ate everything last night."

"Everything," she confirmed, including some empty containers peeking out of the recycling. "So unless coffee counts as a meal, we're in trouble."

Elias laughed quietly. "It absolutely does not."

She sat up, fingers grazing the soft sheets. "Well, I say we go grocery shopping instead of brunch. We can cook. It'll still be fun."

"Grocery shopping as an adventure?" he teased, sitting beside her. "Since when did we become domestic thrill-seekers?"

She brushed a hand along his jaw. "Since we realized our fridge is empty. And since we're not sweaty from morning exercise."

He blinked, considering. "Do you… really want to do that?"

She curled closer, head on his chest. "I want coffee first. But yes."

He smiled and kissed the crown of her head. "Okay. Coffee, then grocery mission."

Coffee & Morning Glow

They slipped into a comfortable rhythm, shuffling to the bathroom to shower and change into something casual. Anya wore a soft grey tee and leggings; Elias pulled on jeans and a white T-shirt. Their hair was still damp; the morning air clung to them, refreshing and intimate.

They left the apartment hand in hand. The morning was crisp, damp from an early mist, but clear. The world felt new again. They meandered down the tree-lined street with no real rush, just quiet companionship. Car horns were distant, birds chattering overhead. Traces of damp leaves and asphalt drifted between them.

The café was familiar, warm walls, soft lighting, the smell of ground coffee beans and fresh pastries. They ordered two lattes, one oat, one almond, and a flaky croissant to share. The barista teased Elias about their "couple's system" and he blushed good-naturedly.

They found a corner seat where light pooled over the table. Anya held her cup with both hands, eyes half-lidded at the first sip. Elias watched her, a soft smile curving his lips. He lifted his cup to his own mouth, but paused. "Your milk is… fancier than mine."

She laughed. "That's because I spent ten minutes choosing it."

He shook his head, amused. "That's why I love you."

She rested her head on his shoulder. "You love me despite my milk habits."

He kissed the top of her head. "I love every little part of you."

They touched noses, coffee steam curling between them. The rest of the café softened to a hum of other lives.

Grocery Mission

The parking lot was still wet from the early morning drizzle, but by now the sun had broken through, casting soft reflections on the car hoods and storefront glass. They walked side by side, takeaway coffee cups warming their hands, as the automatic doors of the shopping center whooshed open before them.

Inside, the cool, air-conditioned space smelled faintly of fresh bread, roasted chicken, and something sweet being baked nearby. Elias grabbed a basket. Anya, scanning the overhead signs, led the way with casual confidence.

"Operation Restock begins," Anya declared.

"Lead the way, Commander."

They started in produce. Her hands moved with purpose, plucking leeks, cabbage, red onions, and bright green chilies with an instinct that made Elias pause.

"You grocery shop like you're casting a spell."

She handed him a handful of curry leaves. "Hold the magic."

Carrots. Spring onions. Limes. Ripe tomatoes. Garlic and ginger in generous amounts. A bunch of mint. A heavy bunch of pandan leaves, still dewy from the misting fan. She paused at the coconuts, selected one carefully and knocked gently.

"Is it… supposed to sound hollow?" Elias asked, peering over her shoulder.

She didn't answer. She was already moving on.

From the meat section, she added chicken thigh fillets and a small pack of liver, placing them neatly beside the vegetables. Eggs followed, and then thick coconut cream from the chilled aisle, along with oat milk, whole milk, and a small bottle of rose water she seemed very pleased about.

Elias tried to peek in the basket. "Is this part of brunch or the secret plan?"

She smiled. "Both."

From the dry goods aisle, she grabbed paratha flatbreads, mustard seeds, roasted curry powder, cinnamon sticks, and cardamom pods. A jar of palm sugar went in next. Then nutmeg. Cloves. Vanilla extract. Sultanas. A small tin of condensed milk.

"You're either feeding us or summoning something," Elias whispered.

Anya tilted her head. "Bit of both."

They detoured for essentials, oil, rice, flour, onions, lentils. Then indulgences: roasted cashews, two bars of dark chocolate, a jar of chili paste, and instant noodles "just in case." Elias added kettle chips. She countered with dried mango and pistachios.

In the coffee aisle, they debated roasts until Anya picked a cinnamon-spiced blend and Elias chose something that claimed to "taste like thunder." She rolled her eyes and tossed both in.

"Balance," she explained.

At the freezer section, they hesitated. Elias picked a tub of mango sorbet. She nodded, then reached for frozen roti. "Shortcut," she said. "I'm human."

They passed by the bakery, and somehow a crusty sourdough, a sleeve of soft buns, and a packet of cinnamon rolls made their way into the cart. By the time they reached checkout, the cart looked like the beginning of something beautiful and slightly chaotic.

"You were right," Elias said, scanning the full basket. "This was not just about brunch."

"This is nourishment," Anya replied. "Future breakfasts. Lazy lunches. Middle-of-the-night snacks."

The cashier scanned each item while the two of them bagged carefully eggs cushioned, herbs nestled, flatbreads tucked flat against the side.

Outside, the sun had climbed higher. Elias carried the heavy bags while Anya balanced the lighter ones and sipped the last of her latte.

"You know," he said, shifting a tote on his shoulder, "we came out for eggs and maybe some spinach."

"And now your fridge will stop looking like a sad bachelor meme," she replied.

He smiled, watching her walk ahead a little confident, decisive, arms full of groceries and thoughts.

"I'm honestly a little scared," he said.

"Good," she called back. "It means you'll listen when I tell you to slice those onions properly."

"Wait, we're cooking today?"

"We're cooking always," she said, pausing to look at him. "You'll thank me later."

Returning Home

They walked home, arms full of bags and hearts full of quiet joy. Delicate sunlight lit damp sidewalks. At the door, Elias scooped Anya into his arms, bags cradled against his chest, and she giggled.

"I swear I'm light as a feather," she teased.

"You still weigh enough to feel glorious," he said, closing the door behind them.

Inside, they set everything on the counter. The late-morning light stretched over polished wood and stainless steel. He lined up everything while she unplugged and smiled at their collective haul.

It felt… full. Vibrant. Like the start of something even brighter.