I lay in bed, exhausted, burning with fever.
A crash of pots, pans.
“Darling, omelette, dry toast. We ran out of butter,” he grins sheepishly, handing me the tray.
Then, he looks at me, eyes like smouldering embers.
I am in love.
Participating Entry – YeahWrite #221 Microstories Challenge
Answer this question in exactly 42 words
“How Hot Is It?”