Vanilla Petals on Your Breath

The city was too loud today, but under the cherry blossoms, everything went quiet.
I held a vanilla cone in my hand—cold and sweet against the spring warmth. You were standing just close enough for me to feel your breath on my cheek.
I took a small bite of the cream, letting it melt slowly over my tongue. I didn't look at you; I only felt your eyes tracing the curve of my lips, lingering there with an unspoken question.
The air smelled like salt and sugar and old memories. For a moment, we stopped being two strangers in a crowded metropolis. We were just skin, heartbeat, and vanilla scent.
I turned slightly toward you, a single drop of ice cream clinging to the corner of my mouth. I saw your hand twitch—a quiet desire to reach out and touch me where it was sweet.
In that silence between us, love felt like something simple: just one more bite before the spring faded away.

Editor: Pure Linen