It was a boring Sunday.
There I was, lying cozily in the feathery soft hammock, enjoying the breeze as it brushed on my cheek.
The favorite book of mine rested right beside me.
It was untouched. Guess the mood wasn't right.
Staring at the dancing leaves and waving branches and squinting at the sunshine that penetrated through the layers of green right above me.
There was no sign of hostility.
In fact, it was a warm embrace that sent me peace and tranquility.
My mind was drifting away to a faraway land, unknown by others.
Slowly I was drifted away until a warm touch caressed my blushing cheek.
It wasn't hard to figure whose hand was it.
I couldn't help, I smiled from the bottom of my heart.
No one else gives me the same sensation like how he does.
Just like how he had persisted.
It wasn't an easy path from the very beginning, but we made it.
My eyes closed shut, trying my very best to put on a disguise that he would have intelligently uncover.
Despite the weak attempt, I remained still, savoring every second of the moment.
As seconds ticked by, heat seemed to grow.
A peck landed on my lips, and I thought to myself, "Ah shuts, should have put on my lip balm."
A peck is all he needs to melt me away.
I returned the favor, throwing my facade away subconsciously.
A big smile carved on his face, and he chuckled, "I just knew it. You naughty girl."
He took a few seconds to poise himself and asked in a deep yet casual set tone, "Hey Misssssay, are you interested to go on a date with me at Meatworks?"
What is more that I can say?
I nodded in agreement without oblige.
We were well greeted by the friendliness of staffs, coziness of the cottage-like interior, and tempting Sunday Roast.
Judging by the healthy pink shade and reflection of light, one word is suffice : Yumss!
Despite the leanness, it bounced in delight as the fork worked its way through.
Naked or dressed, it works well.
I would say, this Sunday Roast has got personality!
It is not the best, but it outruns the one we had in Las Vacas.
If only we had some red wine to go with it, sadly, Meatworks don't serve alcohol (halal).
The sweetest thing of all, we were served with homemade tiramisu and vanilla pannacotta.
No, we didn't pay for these. It was on the house.
It was my first Pannacotta.
Tentatively I dug in, it did not feel like gelatin, but more like yoghurt.
Sweet? It isn't. Subtle, and more to the sourish end.
Made of cream, milk, and sugar, it would never give the sinful impression you might have in mind.
*Continued to dig it more till the very last scoop*
Tiramisu sans alcohol never make it qualify as the classic tiramisu, this is what He quoted.
I heard the faint shout for alcohol to quench its thirst but its request would never be fulfilled.
Well, at least, not here.
It was a casual Sunday with much love.
Just like how the title says : You and I, Just Us Two.