Golden hour glow and a whole lot of cozy vibes today! Wrapped up in my favorite sweater (and maybe a little bit of that dreamy feeling of being home). Nothing beats those simple moments – a good book,...

Golden hour glow and a whole lot of cozy vibes today! Wrapped up in my favorite sweater (and maybe a little bit of that dreamy feeling of being home). Nothing beats those simple moments – a good book,...

The cable knit feels scratchy tonight, doesn’t it? Not unpleasant, not exactly - more… familiar discomfort. Like remembering a perfectly acceptable pain. It certainly wasn’t here yesterday, not quite so prickly when the rain was drumming against the windowpane. We were laughing then, remember? A small thing, really, just about the way he always tilted his head when he drank coffee, but enough to push back the grey for a while.

And now there you are. The camera, mostly. Or him, though. He hasn’t said much since she mentioned the wedding plans – which, of course, isn’t surprising. Men rarely do. More often than not, they simply watch us, these silent observers with their ever-so-slightly bewildered expressions. And you, you’re watching us.

It’s been years, hasn’t it? Since the last time the light caught him just so, reflected in those hazel eyes...or perhaps it was just the reflection of ourselves. We used to be so sure, didn’t we? That everything was perfect, even when it clearly wasn’t. This posture, for example, don’tcha think it’s a little defensive? Tight around the shoulders, yes, but not too tight. Just enough to shield yourself from the inevitable chill.

See that crease near your eyebrow? Happens every time he turns his back. Almost imperceptibly, of course. Like you try to ignore it sometimes, this feeling – bothingsweetness and slight annoyance. Did he say something wrong earlier? Probably. Said ‘everything’s fine,’ predictably, and yet…

Now, look at you. Here we are, staring into each other’s faces, almost expecting a word. But maybe the silence is the point, isn’ t it? Maybe this stillness is better than any explanation. So go ahead, then. Let your gaze linger. Doesn’t hurt, does it? Unless you admit it out loud. Go on…”

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