Golden hour glow and coffee shop dreams – that’s where it's at! Feeling cozy in my favorite oversized sweater today, letting the city noise melt away as we sip our lattes and watch the world go by. Li...

(The woollen scarf feels scratchy tonight – always does, really. Like a memory trying to hold onto itself.)

“There. That’s better.” A small sound, almost lost in the crackle of the fire, though you noticed, didn't you? Or perhaps not. It doesn't matter much. For years, it never did. We were so good at letting things drift, weren't we? Just enough to be comfortable, but only ever just.

Here, aren't we? In this room, which smells faintly of rain and old books, just like when... well, when everything felt simpler. The dark green of the dress suits you, don't think you’ve noticed yet. It was your favourite colour, wasn't it? Though maybe our favourite. Everything used to be ours.

Your gaze isn’t quite challenging, more like hesitant. Like you’re not entirely sure if you should expect a sigh, or a smile, or one of those perfectly contained silences that followed every argument. Not an argument exactly, more like a slow tide turning against us.

See that slight tilt of the chin? Trying to appear nonchalant. Of course, you are. Always were. Such effortless grace, even now, after all these years. Did he say something about needing space? Probably. He said lots of things.

We haven’ been completely silent for ages, have we? Just…now. Now there’s this little bit of warmth, this flicker of recognition. Maybe it’s hope, silly thing. Possibly just habit.

And your eyes, they’re interesting, aren’t they? Slightly wary, definitely curious. Are you wondering why the tea hasn't been poured yet? Or perhaps, daringly, why we're still here."

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