You wake up in someone else's shirt. It's inside out. You’re both laughing about it—your legs tangled, the bottle from last night still lying sideways on the floor like a passed-out party guest.
You didn’t mean to drink that much. But the moment it hit your tongue—cloudy gold, buzzing with chamomile, dried apricot, and that cheeky citrus bitterness—you both knew you were in it. That subtle funk? Irresistible. The grip? A slow burn, not a slap. You shared the whole thing, pouring sloppy top-ups between kisses and grilled halloumi bites, like two overgrown teenagers on a wine bender with better taste.
And now, morning light. Still sticky with joy. You reach for the bottle again, just to smell it. Just to remember. You don’t even care if there’s couscous in your hair.
Region: Colli Berici, Veneto, Italy Grapes: Garganega, Trebbiano, Tai Bianco
