A Night to Remember
As the night deepened, the city outside blurred into streaks of amber light. We sat by the window, talking about everything and nothing. She teased me about my messy desk. I joked about her terrible coffee addiction. And in those small, stupid exchanges, the world righted itself.
The perfume I’d sprayed earlier lingered in the air — soft, faint — mixing with the scent of her hair.
That packet? Still untouched.
Because sometimes, love doesn’t need to rush. Sometimes, the reunion itself is enough — the laughter, the warmth, the peace of finally being able to touch the person you’ve only held in memory for too long.
