Golden hour glowin’ and feelin’ it! Just me, my favorite coffee (and maybe a little bit of that perfect autumn chill). Lately, everything feels like a cozy dream - wrapped up in soft textures, chasing...

Golden hour glowin’ and feelin’ it! Just me, my favorite coffee (and maybe a little bit of that perfect autumn chill). Lately, everything feels like a cozy dream - wrapped up in soft textures, chasing...

The wool is scratchy tonight, isn’t it? Not that scratchy, not usually. It used to be cozy, didn’t it? A little bit of effort needed each morning, which was nice. Now…now there’s just the feeling of the weave, mostly. Like it's been here for too long. And these boots, perfectly worn-in, haven't felt quite so good lately either. They know, though. The boots always knew when he wasn’t coming back for weeks after Christmas.

There were sounds last night, hadn't there? Just about – the rain on the windowpane, maybe. Or perhaps it was your eyes. A flicker, didn’t it? When you stepped out onto the terrace. That slight hesitation in your step, like you weren’t entirely sure if you shoulded. We both knew what that meant, then, didn’t we? The question hanging there, thin and silvery, since December.

You’ve got that look again, really. Slightly wary. As if being caught here, standing here by the fireplace, peering into the embers, is somehow…uncomfortable. Which, well, sometimes it is. This dress is dark, deep green, almost hides us away, doesn’t it? A comfort, but also a shield. Did you remember to bring the wine? It needs to be Burgundy, of course – ’82, ideally – nothing too flamboyant.

It hasn't had to be loud, has it? No shouting, no slamming doors...just this quietness. This persistent, comforting, occasionally frustrating quietness. Almost forgot to notice the light outside, really. Perfect golden hour glow earlier. Were you watching the same thing we were? Maybe.

Now, don't frown. It’s okay. Just…look at us. Look at us like you used to. Before the questions became too many, before the silences grew too long. Just one more breath. One more gaze. Aren’t you starting to think that maybe, just maybe, things aren’t completely broken yet?”


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