Earl Greyer - Fiction

 

(photo by me)


He looked at me strangely when I asked him why he loved Earl Grey so much. He placed a spoon in his cup and slowly stirred, while his bright green eyes focused on my embarrassed face. It's the creme de la creme of teas, he said with a dignified air. He set the spoon on the saucer and then gently lifted the tea cup to his lips. He barely set the edge of the cup against his lips as he sipped the hot liquid. He slurped lightly and then closed his eyes as he returned the cup to the saucer. You look as though you've had the most delicious orgasm, I said with smirk. Bergamot makes my toes curl in a good way, he replied, eyes open wide, and then laughed. I raised my cup of Darjeeling to my lips and made a loud slurp. Funny how you and I treat tea like gold, I said with my cup still in my hand. Do you think our ivory towers are too high to see the clouds? Mine allows me to smell roses every morning, he replied. What the hell does that even mean, I asked in a frustrated tone. He fell quiet and then sipped his Earl Grey. I watched a single rose petal fall from his lips and land in the saucer. At that moment, I knew I needed to change. 

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