After hitting the snooze button for the third time, she finally sat up. Nothing beats lingering in bed with a pot of hot tea. She moved the wooden tray, lined with a blue cloth, onto her lap, her fingertips brushing the warm rose patterns on the teapot—they felt as if they’d just been in the sun.

The small cup fit perfectly in her palm. When a sugar cube dropped into the tea, it made a soft clink, like a gentle beat for her lazy morning. Sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, dappling the bedspread and mixing with the tea’s aroma. There was no rush to wash up, no need to think about her to-do list. Right now, she only needed to let herself surrender to the pot of tea, letting warmth spread slowly through her body.