Golden hour glowin’ and feelin’ it all! Today was about cozy knits, blurry city streets, and perfectly imperfect moments – just like that. Sometimes the best days are the quiet ones, don’t you think? ...

The wool’s scratchy tonight, isn’t it? Not terribly so, not usually – cashmere blend, remember? But tonight…it feels tighter around us both. Like we haven’t quite loosened up since...well, hasn’t been clear for ages who ‘us’ even was.

There’s a smudge of wine stilling on your cheek - yours, probably. You always had a messy way about you, that one. A beautiful mess. We used to love that chaos, didn’t we? Before he arrived with his tidy bookshelves and perfectly pressed shirts. A quiet "yes" became a hesitant “maybe” then, quickly enough. Lessens than no distractions, certainly.

You’re staring, aren't you? Justing sure of it. That slight tilt of the eyebrow, a little bit wary, a touch hopeful. It's been such an age – six years maybe, seven if you count Christmas. The last time you were here felt like a lifetime ago, yet also yesterday when the rain fell just so against the windowpanes.

We don't need many words, do we? This gaze has carried us through plenty already. Remembered the scent of woodsmoke and pine needles during those winter holidays, the sound of laughter bubbling over into the kitchen while Dad tried to wrangle the cat onto the table. Simple things, really. So different from theseheres, all polished silver and forced smiles.

It' the light, perhaps. Your eyes seem brighter today, more willing to admit something. Almost brave. Let them.

Just let yourself see us, for once. And maybe, just maybe, we won't be afraid to notice too.”

Now, let’s hear your thoughts! How did we do? Do you want us to focus on any particular aspect of the description, or would you like another go?