Sunlight through the leaves and that perfect Parisian haze – feels like this is where we’ve always been. A little bit cozy, a whole lot of magic. Today was all about simple pleasures - coffee in hand,...

(The wool skirt feels scratchier than usual tonight, doesn’t it?) It always does when we’re here. Not unpleasant, not entirely - more… familiar discomfort, perhaps. Like recognizing an old bruise. A good one, mostly. Though sometimes you look a little hesitant to admit that, don’t you? Just a flicker in the eye when the light catches it properly. A slight tightening around the mouth – haven’t quite managed a smile since...well, hasn't been sure for some time.

We were talking about autumn last, maybe, over too much wine. The leaves, naturally. Theying turned such glorious colours, didn’t they? Before they drifted away, all those colours. We never did say which ones belonged to us, did we? Too obvious, probably. That was always our downfall, wasn't it? Being too well-defined.

Here, then. Righting here in the corner of the room, amidst the dust motes dancing in the candlelight. Comfortable enough. This blouse – silk, supposedly – smooth against the skin, a nice contrast to the wool. Simple, really. Unlike ourselves. Or so we thought.

You’ve been staring ever since we sat down, haven’ed you? Quietly, comfortably so. No judgement here, no expectation. Just observation. Which can be intimidating, if you allow it. And today, with the way your hand brushed ours during the waiter's passing by - almost forgot to notice it, hadn't we?

It felt good, didn’t it? That brush. Like water after a dry spell. Almost forgotten how refreshing it could be. So, go ahead. Keep gazing. Let yourself remember. Maybe, just maybe, we both had. Now, let’s see if you dare to speak.”

Let us know:

• What did you think of the atmosphere?
• Which detail resonated most (e.g., the scarf, the posture)?
• Any suggestions for improvement?