“What’s your favourite month?” He asks, finger rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

“What’s with that all of a sudden?” She laughs, but answers anyway.
“It’s December.”

“Just a random question, since we’re waiting for our food.” He replies, feet nudging hers to answer.
“Now, why do you like December?”

She looks up, searching the air for answers.
“Well, for starters there’s Christmas!”

“And?”

“And, many of my close friends have their birthdays then. It’s a season to give and receive!”

“And?” He repeats himself.
She wonders if he’s waiting for a particular answer.

“Mmm, and it makes you look back upon the eleven months before - think of what you’ve done, what you shouldn’t have, what you can do better next year!”

“And?”

“And… why don’t you tell me?” She shrugs in defeat - not wanting to go on rambling about the many reasons to love December. She just did.

“I will.”

So he told her.

*`*`*`*`*
“It was the month I met you.”

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