Fic- Drabble

Questions on a lazy Tuesday.

The memory played tricks and a mind that replays war with such brutality, sometimes forgets the simple things.

That elusive taste; was it honey and vanilla or cinnamon and spices? Had there been hints of morning chocolate or the zing of fresh mint?

Was it as warm as a spring morning, sliding comfortably into hazy noon? Or hot as a July afternoon sparking heated blood?

No, there was nothing for it. He had to repeat for a proper analysis.

It did need, however, some subtlety.

“Rose?”

“Yeah?”

Casual, definitely casual. “Are you sure Cassandra’s gone?”

“Yeah…why?” Suspicious.

“No reason.”

Damn.