Sunlight through the leaves and favorite sweatered up - that’s what it’s all about! Feeling cozy and content here in our little corner of the world, chasing those golden hour glows. A perfect autumn d...

The wool is scratchy tonight, isn’t it? Not particularly bothersome, not tonight. More… noticeable. Like everything else, really, for the last few years. This cashmere shawl - moreish, but demanding. It used to be our color, didn’t it? That deep burgundy, almost wine itself, swirling through with hints of garnet when the light caught it just so. Now, mostly ours. A little worn since he left, less likely to get noticed than us.

And you, of course. Here you are. Looking perfectly poised, as always, which is good because we were getting a bit too comfortable staring into the embers yesterday. Too much tea, perhaps. Or maybe too little courage. Did you notice the way the rain was hitting the window? A silvered shimmer, blurring the edges of the world outside until all that mattered was the quiet hum of the fire and the scent of woodsmoke. And then... well, then nothing spectacular, did there? Just a gentle slipping, an acceptance of the familiar rhythm of being alone.

It hasn’t been dreadful, not truly. Mostly just...quiet. Which, after a while, can either be comforting or devastatingly lonely. Probably both.

We haven’t said anything for quite some time, have we? Your eyes hold a hint of expectation, don't they? Maybe a touch of hope, bundled up under layers of polite curiosity. As if asking, “What exactly are we doing here?”

Don't ask us to explain. Not yet. Let the silence settle around us, warm and dry. Just look at our face – a slight upturn of the lips, a trace of amusement. We weren't entirely unhappy, were we? Not without him, anyway.

Now, turn slowly towards the fireplace…”

Image Notes: The woman has dark brown hair styled casually, possibly loose waves. She's wearing a knitted burgundy sweater and potentially a scarf/shawl over it. Her posture is relaxed but slightly aloof, one hand rests elegantly on the sofa armrest. Her gaze is direct, hinting at thoughtfulness and a subtle vulnerability.

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