✴ Scarlett ✴
The morning sun cast its golden rays through the windows of Damien’s kitchen as I poured myself a second cup of coffee. It had become a familiar routine, one that felt as natural as breathing. Last night I had made the impulsive decision to come here instead of going to my own place after having dinner with my parents. Damien had left the door open, and it had felt so natural to just walk in without knocking. And in the light of a new day, I couldn’t help but smile as I looked around the kitchen. His house had started to feel like home, though I wasn’t entirely sure what that meant for us. I couldn’t help but notice that I had a few things lying around. A pair of shoes. A few samples of fabric from work. My laptop and notebook. I didn’t have to go through the whole house to k
