The Quiet Between Us

City lights flicker beyond my window, but inside it is only us. I wear the black dress you like—the one that feels like a second skin and holds me tight while I wait for your footsteps in the hall.
You arrive with the scent of rain on your coat. You don't say hello; instead, you lean in and brush a stray lock of hair from my forehead. Your fingers are cold, but where they touch, I feel a slow bloom of warmth that spreads through my chest like ink on wet paper.
I look into your eyes and see the day’s exhaustion fading away. We stand there for a long minute—not moving, just breathing each other in. The world outside is loud, chaotic, demanding. But here, in this small space between us, everything is still.
You whisper my name against my skin. It is simple prose, yet it sounds like poetry to me. I lean into you, closing my eyes, letting the rhythm of your heart become the only clock that matters.

Editor: Pure Linen