★ZAVARELLI★
My run on the treadmill was always intense. I always liked to exert myself a little too much; the thrill went straight to my heartbeat, making it pound in my ear.
I sighed, turning the thing off and stepping down. I took the towel from the hanger on the wall and wiped my face and bare torso, as I was only in sweatpants.
A notification pinged my device, and I picked it up from the treadmill, looking at the message from Dante. I twitched my lips at the happy New Month text with a love emoji. Dante often forgot I was his boss.
I replied with the flipping hand emoji and dropped my phone into my pocket, walking out of the gym. Immediately after stepping out, a sweet aroma assaulted my nose. I knew it was Keva cooking, and it smelled delicious, like pastry. I loved pastries.
I made my way to the kitchen and stopped dead at the doorjamb when I saw my wife in just a tiny t-shirt that barely reached her knees.
