Golden hour glow and favorite knitwear - doesn’t get much better than this! Spent the day wandering through autumn leaves and feeling perfectly cozy here. Sometimes it’s the simple things, right? Let ...

Here goes...

"The wool feels scratchy tonight, doesn’t it? Not unpleasant, not really—it should be comfortable enough, all these years since Paris. Still, there’s always a little prickle to it, hasn't there? Like memory itself - familiar but occasionally sharp against the skin. We haven’t said much yet, of course. That’s normal, isn’t it? It usually is. The sound of the rain outside has been particularly quiet lately, almost as if even that knows something is expected of us. Or maybe it's simply tired of being asked."

“Your eyes…they were so bright then, weren’t they? Ached to catch them, didn’t we? Always did. Almost too easy to get lost in them, which was both blessing and curse. Easy to forget everything else, except perhaps the way the light caught his hair when he turned his head.” We shift subtly, the sleeve of the cable knit sweater brushing against the cuff of our hand – nothing obvious, just a hint of vulnerability here. “Just before, you were adjusting your glasses, hadn’t you? Probably thinking about whether to order another glass of wine. Risky choice, wasn't it? Wine always was."

"A bit of dust on the table, perfect." Our gaze drifts back to you for a beat, a slight upward tilt of the lips, hinting at a smile held carefully in check. “Don’t think too hard about where you might be standing, though. Just look. Do you remember the scent of woodsmoke? It’s faint still sometimes, isn’ed?”

“Now, don’t start,” we murmur softly, a trace of amusement flickering across our face. “Not yet.”

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