I made a cup a tea last night but I didn’t put enough sugar. It reminded me of you. If our love had a taste, it’d taste like that cup of tea. It was creamy and bitter, but it quelled the craving. It was strong black tea, something I promised not to indulge in too much since I discovered how its caffeine affected me but I just couldn’t resist the temptation. Just like I knew your intentions but immersed myself regardless. I added the sugar, two of them. I used a slightly larger spoon so I didn’t bother to add a third like I normally would. Kind of when you’d thought that quantity of time we spent together meant more than the actual quality of our bond. Then I poured in the milk. It’s absolutely mesmerising, the way it mixes itself with the tea, oddly relaxing and satisfying to watch. Yes, mesmerising the same way you described me when we were tangled up in your bed sheets after too many drinks. Every sip was a remnant of your kiss. The feel of the liquid against my lips, the way it slipped into my mouth over my tongue, and the hot sensation of it in my stomach tingling like the butterflies you once gave me. It was enough; not bad or good but it was enough, then it finished. The cup eventually became empty. Just like you left me; empty. I really wished I’d sipped it slowly, but then it would’ve gotten cold, and I’d have to throw it down the drain. The cup would still be empty, I know. But, it wouldn’t have sat well, knowing I let a decent cup of tea go to waste, when I could’ve enjoyed it while it was hot. I suppose you thought the same thing. I guess I wasn’t your cup of tea, and that’s okay. I’ve heard you’re a big fan of ice-cream now. I recommend you should take your time and savour it, or else, you’ll get a brain freeze.8964 copyright protection870ＰＥＮＡＮＡyRTZqAuY6a 維尼

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