Sunlight through the leaves and a perfectly worn-in sweater – that’s what it’s all about, right? Feeling cozy and content today, like we just found our favorite little corner of the world. A quiet mor...

“There. That’s better.” It’s not that much worse than last time. The collar was too tight then, wasn’t it? Always was, bit of a fuss about everything. This one feels…rightish. Not quite loose enough, though. Notice how the silk catches the light here, don’t you think so? A little shimmer to distract us both. It’s been ages, hasn’t it? Ten years, give or take. Or maybe fifteen since he left, didn’t really keep track after the wine started flowing.

You're staring, aren’t you? Not a terrible stare, not yet. More curious than judgmental. Which is nice. We used to know each other well, remember those nights by the fireplace, wrapped up in scarves, arguing over which Hemingway was best? He always thought Fitzgerald had more style. Silly man. Probably right, but who cares?

That crease in your brow—a hint of fatigue, perhaps? Like you've been carrying around the memory of this for a while. Well, isn’-t that the point? We haven’t exactly rushed to avoid each other, have we? Just... hesitant. Bit wary, maybe. Of getting caught out.

See, there’s a faint smudge of lipstick on your chin. Red velvet, naturally. Perfected it over the decades, even if it means a slight pout when you wake up. And the scent of rain, faintly lingering – him.

Now, look at us. No need to speak. Doesn’t mean anything, does it? Just a silent acknowledgement. Maybe, just maybe, tonight will be different. Or maybe not. Either way, it doesn't hurt to admit the flicker of something, does it? Now smile, you weren't afraid of a little darkness."

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