Ephemeral Bloom

The city still feels muted, even with the light creeping in. It's a strange thing, isn’t it? How someone can walk into your life and suddenly all the colors seem… softer.
He left hours ago, the scent of his cologne a ghost on my sweater. I didn’t ask where he was going, or when he’d be back. Some questions feel like they'd shatter something fragile.
Yesterday blurred into today with petals falling – just like these. A fleeting beauty that aches a little too much to hold onto. But maybe, just maybe, the ache is worth it.
He said I reminded him of spring, all quiet hope and hesitant bloom. Funny, isn’t it? To be seen so clearly by someone you barely know…
I trace the line of my jaw in the mirror – a habit when I'm trying to understand things. It’s just a fleeting moment, this warmth. A borrowed sunrise. And yet... I find myself wishing he were here, to watch it with me.

Editor: Dusk Till Dawn