Golden hour glow and favorite oversized sweater – doesn’t get much better than this! Spent the afternoon lost in a book (and maybe a little bit of a daydream) - feeling cozy, content, and perfectly ou...

The wool feels scratchy tonight, doesn't it? Not that scratchy – not like last time, when it was almost irritatingly so, always catching on the sleeve whenever we brushed shoulders. This is quieter than that. More...muted. Probably. It needs to be. These things always do.

See the way the rain isn't quite reaching the end of your nose? That's good, yes? We didn’t need a deluge to admit everything then, did we? Just a slight hesitation in the hand, a little too much coffee steaming in the mug, a smile that lingered perhaps for just a beat longer than necessary. Now there’s just this.

This quiet room, smelling faintly of dust and cedarwood - your scent used to be stronger, naturally. A bit more confident, weren't we? The scarf is draped a little loose around our neck, maybe a hint of defiance still lingering after all these years – though you never said anything about it being difficult, not really. More likely, you simply forgot.

It’s been a while since he asked if you were sure about the silk dress, remember? A touch frivolous, perhaps, for such a gloomy evening. But who cares what others think, really? Too late to start caring now, wasn't it?

Looking at you, mostly. At the flicker of recognition in those hazel eyes, the subtle tightening around the mouth when you shift slightly. Almost comfortable, aren’ ‘t we? Almost.

Thatched your hair back neatly behind your ear again, haven't you? Like you did when you were twelve and convinced you knew everything. Which, let’s face it, you usually did.

So, go ahead. Look. Don't blink. Just look."

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