Sophia
The morning sun filtered through the tattered curtains of my quaint cottage, casting a soft glow on the mismatched furniture that filled the room. I stretched lazily, savoring the quiet moments before the day's chaos inevitably ensued.
My peace was short-lived, however, as a loud crash echoed from the kitchen, followed by a string of colorful curses.
“Blast these confounded tea leaves!” I muttered, rushing to the scene of the crime. The culprit: my beloved teapot, now lying in pieces on the floor, surrounded by a puddle of rapidly cooling Earl Grey. Mark was standing tall but hunched, holding surprised to be just holding the handle.
My face twisted, he was too strong for his own good. Ugh.
I sighed, grabbing a towel to mop up the mess. “Is it too much to ask for one morning
