The days began to take on a rhythm one that pulsed with the beat of shared laughter, quiet glances, and subtle gestures. It wasn't the grand moments that marked this chapter of our life, but the little things the brush of fingers as we passed each other in the hallway, the warmth of morning tea shared in silence, the way you always left the window open just a bit so the breeze could kiss the room good morning.
One evening, while the world outside glowed with the golden softness of dusk, you called me to the balcony. "Look," you whispered, pointing to the horizon where the sun melted into the sea of clouds. The colors danced in your eyes, and I realized something: I could watch every sunset of my life and still find none more breathtaking than the one reflected in you.
We sat there, legs tangled, leaning into each other like roots of the same tree. In those quiet hours, there was nothing to prove and nothing to chase. We were simply us alive in the moment, sacred in the stillness.