Golden hour glow and oversized knit bliss ✨ Feeling like we’re wrapped in a cozy dream – simple moments, favorite things. A little bit of rain outside, perfect mood inside. What’s been making you smil...

“There.” That’s what you always said, didn’t there? “Just loosen up, Hazel. Stop holding everything so tight.” Easier said than done, wasn’t it? This old tweed feels familiar enough - worn smooth by years of chilly evenings, of course, and not too many arguments about whether to wear it. It smells faintly of rain and woodsmoke, even if it doesn’t tonight. Mostly, it feels like home…or used to.

Your boots aren’t here then, no obvious sign of them anyway. Just the quiet. Always been a silent sort of chaos with you lot, hasn’t there? A hint of dust motes dancing in the light after everyone has gone, the scent of coffee brewing for hours – mostly forgotten now. Maybe that’s why we agreed to this place. The gallery opening, five years ago. Felt brave then, a little less certain.

We were laughing, remember? At the critic’s ridiculous tiecuff. And the way your hair fell across your forehead when you weren’t quite aware of it. See that slight turn of the mouth? That’s what was left. Not desperate, not yet. More like…expectant. Like you thought, perhaps, we hadn’stheenset ourselves apart for too long.

You haven’t spoken much since you stepped out onto the terrace. Just staring back, really. Slightly wary, certainly. We can still see those eyes, though. Remembered them well, haven’t we? Those eyes. Now, don't look too pleased, we might actually mean it this time…”

End Scene.

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