Golden hour glowin’ ✨ Feels like we finally found our perfect little corner – cozy sweater, steaming latte, and the best company (that’s us!). A simple kind of magic happens when you slow down and emb...

(The scent of rain hangs low, doesn’t it? Not recent, not yet damp - more like memory.)

“There,” we said, didn’t we? A perfectly reasonable word for twenty years spent quietly drifting apart. “Just a bitings.” Always the blaming, wasn’t there? Ours, mostly. Though, weren't we always too stubborn to admit it. This cashmere feels good against the skin, anyway – dark teal, his favorite, though he never quite noticed when we started favoring these wide legs over the wool ones. Noticeable, isn’t it? How subtle our preferences became.

We haven’t spoken much since then, really. Justed glances across dinner tables, hesitant smiles during birthdays. And this, well, this was after the argument about the rose garden – he insisted on pruningasters, silly things, while we preferred rambling roses. A small thing, perhaps, but everything felt so… tight afterwards. Like trying to squeeze through a doorway made of velvet ropes.

Now you’re standing here, aren’t we? All observant eyes and slightly skeptical eyebrows. Probably wondering why we haven’ed moved further away than arm’s length in ten years. It’s comfortable, hasn’t it been? This quietness. More familiar than most of our conversations.

Here goes. We were feeling a little exposed, maybe? The way the light caught those lines around your mouth, the hint of doubt in your gaze. Didn't want to push too hard, of course. Too many silences already.

So, look at us. Look closely. See the trace of the storm that passed – a flicker of recognition, definitely. Perhaps even... hope?"

We're certainly wearing our dress nicely, aren’t we?”

Your turn: Let us know what you think! Do you agree with our interpretation? What do you imagine had happened just before this scene?