Sunlight through the leaves, coffee steam rising…that’s how we do it here at home. Feeling cozy and content wrapped up in this oversized knit sweater – like our favorite comfort zone. A little bit of ...

“There,” we said, didn’t we? A little too eagerly perhaps. Like we needed to be sure. It wasn’t a disaster, not tonight. Not yet. Just… quiet. This has been the way of things for a while, hasn’t it? The space around us filled with all the silences since it happened – the one after the gallery opening, when he turned his back on the champagne and caught you laughing with David. Didn’t even glance back then, did he?

Here, though. Comfortable enough, these wellies. Supposedly practical, leather softened by years of muddy boots and damp leaves. A touch of defiance, surely? We weren’t always so willing to weather them alone. Remember the rain, sometimes? Afternoons spent wandering the fields near your place, soaked through but oblivious.

And look at your eyes. Still blue, more or less. Maybe a bit tired. Probably because you haven’t been sleeping soundly yourself. No need to say anything, of course. That was always difficult, words. Easier to watch each other, hadn’t they? To trace the lines of doubt around those eyes of yours, to notice the slight tightening of the lip whenever he visits. He smells faintly of cedarwood now, doesn't he? Your father's cologne used to linger longer...

This cardigan— woolly, inherited, definitely belonged to Mum. Feels warm against the chill, keeps out the wind, mostly. And isn’ t much risk of being cold tonight, really. Too many layers of guardedness, maybe. So, go ahead. Look at us. Not judging, hopefully. Just wondering if you remember how to smile without thinking about him.”

Now, over to you! Let us know what you thought of the mood, the language, and whether it felt authentic to the picture. Do you want us to tweak it, add something, or try another time?