Lovers' Blend

On better nights, I like to make a pot of coffee and bring it over to Ian's in a large mason jar so that we'd have iced coffee in the morning.  It's somewhat of an unspoken tradition; something to look forward to when the morning arrives.

I get to his house and immediately place the jar in his fridge when I noticed he had already brewed his own pot.  It's sitting there all jolly, ready to compete with mine.  I would be lying if I said that in this moment our situation didn't slightly cripple my "better night".  In any case, it's just another pot of coffee so I strived to get over it.

Ian usually gets out of bed before me, determined to start a productive day.  I...well, I prefer not to.

These mornings, he'll bring me my coffee in bed; prepared just the way I like it.  

But there was something different about this morning.  He handed me my coffee.  Half awake, I took a sip and immediately noticed something was askew.  This wasn't definite so I kept to myself and waited patiently for him speak up.  

He knew I wasn't having it.  

How did he know? I put on my best "this is delicious" face!  I'm sure of it!

In an effort explain himself, Ian confessed.

"I poured your coffee and my coffee together.  I call it the Lovers' Blend."