For the last few days, Jun has been making time to sit and drink a single cup of tea with me. It’s always in the late afternoon. Mostly in my bedroom, but yesterday we ventured out into my suite’s living room, which was a lovely change.


    Today he carries me out into the garden from the training ground. There is a lovely little gazebo overlooking the lake set up for tea. Bushes and trees block out the manor buildings, giving the illusion of privacy.


    He takes care of me down to the smallest detail. From gently setting me down on a chair with perfectly arranged cushions to pouring my tea and placing the cup in my still unsteady hand.This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    I’m still not sure how to start up a conversation with him, but the quiet is comfortable. The kind of relaxing I always dreamed of on vacations.


    We both sip our tea. It’s at the perfect temperature. Hot, but not burning.


    I’m seated so I have a good view of the lake and he is in a chair right next to mine. His facial expression doesn’t change, but I notice a subtle drop in his shoulders as he sips his tea. Like tension is leaving his body.


    He finishes his cup before me, but patiently waits for me to finish mine before carrying me back to my room.


    Overall, my time with him is nice, short, and I have no idea what to make of it.