They woke up to foggy windows, sharp sunlight allowed in only by leftover raindrops trailing smoothly across. Just like sweat had trickled down their cheeks the night before. His hair wasn’t a mess; his breath still minty. She lay next to him, restful and glowing in the faint morning sun. New pearls of sweat rested on her cheeks. The sheets were a mix of mint and pistachio green; 100% cotton.

Their chemistry had been undeniable. There were also residues of salt from the sea and essential, olive-like oil. Merging and mingling, hot and cold, they complemented each other well. As much or as little didn't matter. It was, as it always is, about personal taste. Her juicy sweetness; his fresh scent. Her supple roundness; his elegant, finishing touches. It was a connection to be savoured, slowly, in a moment of heat.

Most of each of them had been used up, but they still found bits of each other to embrace in the morning. It was no surprise that anyone who got a taste of their marriage called it a match made in heaven. They had come together to make a rustic tomato and mint gazpacho, after all.

This progressive recipe is the last story in our I N N U E N D O issue. To read the first story and follow the rest of the issue, go here.