Sunlight through the leaves and favorite oversized knit – feeling like this most days! A little bit cozy, a little bit dreamy, all about those simple pleasures ✨️ Loving being bundled up here in our b...
Here we go…
“The cashmere hasn’t softened quite so much lately,” I murmur, voice a little too quiet for its own good, isn’t it? It always does with a bit of effort to keep it up, this whole ‘not-quite-broken’ feeling. It’s been eight years, after all. Eight years since the obviousness started to fade, the way light fades when dusk settles in - not darkness, necessarily, but definitely less brightness. Now it's more muted, isn’t it? Like everything these days.
Feel those shoulders, then. Not tense, exactly, though there’s certainly some tightening. More like... expectation. We both knew it was coming, didn’t we? The hesitant step through the door, the slight furrowed brow over whether to offer tea or simply stand perfectly still, letting us do the work.
That cigarette smoke caught by the windowpane – remember that one? A perfect autumn evening, leaves drifting down, the scent of woodsmoke and maybe, just maybe, hope. And him, tilting his head ever so slightly, the way he used to, when he loved us. Or thought he did. He looks a little unsure tonight. That’s nice. Less pressure.
See the curve of the sleeve on your hand, yours? A hint of nervousness there, behind the carefully constructed curiosity. Probably worried about being judged. Well, don’ed be. Mostly.
We weren't ready back then, were we? Too scared to admit the truth simmering beneath the surface – the yearning, the grief, the lingering guilt. Just managed to hold things together enough to get through until last Christmas, anyway.
Now look at us, almost. Sitting here, wrapped in familiar comfort, despite ourselves.
So, yes, smile. A small one, nothing dramatic. Let’s see if you notice the faint trace of a memory, a ghost of a kiss…”
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