The afternoon sun poured softly through the trees, painting golden patches on the ground. The air was warm, carrying the faint scent of flowers and the distant hum of buzzing bees. On an old wooden bench under the big mango tree, little Bin sat cross-legged with a small bottle of milk in his hands. Beside him was his best friend—a tiny baby monkey named Coco. Together, they looked like two little brothers, enjoying the sweetest, simplest moment of the day.
Bin had just returned from helping his grandmother water the plants. His shirt was damp, his cheeks were pink, and his hair stuck out in all directions. Coco had followed him everywhere, jumping on his shoulders, tugging at his shirt, and trying to steal the watering can. It had been a busy morning for both of them, and now it was time for their favorite treat—fresh, cool milk.
Bin opened the lid of his bottle and took a big sip. “Ahhh,” he sighed happily. Then he looked at Coco, who was watching him closely, tail twitching in excitement. Bin chuckled. “Okay, okay, it’s your turn.”
He poured a little milk into a tiny cup just for Coco. The baby monkey grabbed it eagerly, both hands holding it tight, and began to sip in small, noisy gulps. The sound made Bin laugh so hard that some milk almost came out of his nose.
“You drink like a baby,” Bin teased, wiping his mouth.
Coco looked up, milk dripping from his chin, and made a soft chattering sound, as if to say, “So what? It’s delicious!” Then he reached out his little hand and patted Bin’s arm, wanting more.
Bin smiled. “You really love milk, huh?”
He poured a bit more into the cup. Coco’s eyes lit up, and he drank again—this time slower, savoring each sip. Bin rested his head on his hand, watching his furry friend. The two of them sat quietly, surrounded by the sounds of nature—the chirping of birds, the whisper of leaves, and the distant clucking of chickens. It was peaceful, like the whole world had slowed down just for them.
After finishing his milk, Coco smacked his lips and stretched his tiny arms toward the sky. Then, with a playful jump, he climbed onto Bin’s shoulder. Bin giggled and said, “You’re heavy, you know that?” Coco responded by wrapping his arms around Bin’s neck and nuzzling his cheek affectionately.
Moments like this made Bin’s heart feel warm. Coco wasn’t just a pet—he was family. When Bin had found him a few months ago, Coco was alone and shivering near the edge of the forest, too weak to climb or run. Bin had taken him home, fed him milk, and kept him warm every night. Since then, they’d been inseparable.
Bin looked at Coco and said softly, “Do you remember when you couldn’t even drink from a cup?”
Coco tilted his head, as if trying to recall. Back then, Bin had to feed him drop by drop using a small bottle. Now, he drank on his own, sitting side by side with his best friend like a little gentleman. Bin laughed again at the thought.
Just then, a butterfly fluttered past, its wings shimmering blue in the sunlight. Coco’s eyes widened, and before Bin could react, the monkey leaped from his shoulder to chase it. The butterfly danced higher, leading Coco around in circles. Bin clapped and cheered, “Go, Coco! You almost got it!”
Coco leapt and twirled, his tail swinging wildly, until the butterfly flew away beyond the fence. He stopped, panting and looking disappointed. Bin waved him back. “Come on, silly, it’s gone. Let’s rest.”
When Coco returned, Bin handed him the empty cup. “No more milk,” he said. Coco peered inside, hoping for just one more drop, then sighed dramatically and leaned against Bin’s arm.
Bin grinned. “Fine. Tomorrow, I’ll give you extra.”
They sat together again, gazing at the clouds floating lazily in the sky. Bin pointed to one shaped like a big heart. “Look, Coco, that one looks like us.”
Coco followed his finger, squinting at the sky, and made a soft cooing sound. Bin smiled, feeling a wave of happiness wash over him. Sometimes, joy didn’t need big things—just a sunny day, a bottle of milk, and a friend to share it with.
After a while, Bin began humming a tune his grandmother always sang while cooking. Coco tapped his fingers on Bin’s leg, trying to keep up with the rhythm. The sight of the little monkey drumming made Bin laugh again. “You’re a funny one,” he said, ruffling Coco’s fur.
Soon, they both lay back on the bench, staring up at the moving clouds. Coco rested his head on Bin’s shoulder. Bin could feel the gentle rise and fall of his tiny friend’s breath. The warmth of the afternoon, the smell of fresh grass, and the memory of milk still on their tongues made everything feel perfect.
“Do you think monkeys dream, Coco?” Bin whispered, almost to himself.
Coco blinked sleepily, half-listening. Maybe he didn’t understand the words, but he felt the love in Bin’s voice. He curled up closer, wrapping his tail around Bin’s arm.
Bin smiled, feeling his eyelids grow heavy too. He thought about the first day they met, about the times they played hide and seek, shared fruits, and even bathed together. Each memory was a little piece of joy. He couldn’t imagine his life without Coco.
Just as Bin started to drift off, he felt something soft brush against his hand. Coco had reached out, placing his tiny palm over Bin’s fingers, as if to say, “I’m here.”
The moment was simple, quiet, and full of meaning. Under the golden light of the setting sun, boy and monkey sat together—two souls from different worlds, connected by care, kindness, and countless shared moments.
A gentle breeze rustled through the leaves, carrying the faint laughter of children playing nearby. Bin’s grandmother called from the kitchen, “Bin! Come in soon! Dinner’s ready!”
Bin opened one eye, smiled, and whispered to Coco, “Hear that? Time to go home.”
Coco yawned and stretched, then climbed up onto Bin’s shoulder as usual. Together, they walked toward the house, their shadows long and side by side in the sunset.
As they reached the porch, Bin turned for one last look at the old bench under the mango tree—their secret place of laughter, milk, and friendship. He knew they would come back tomorrow, and the day after that, to sit, sip, and enjoy their simple happiness all over again.
For now, though, the day had ended perfectly. Bin patted Coco gently and said, “Good boy, Coco. You make everything better.”
Coco chirped softly, nuzzling Bin’s cheek in reply.
And with that, the two friends disappeared inside, leaving behind the faint scent of milk, the echo of laughter, and the warmth of a friendship that made the world a little brighter every single day.
