[The fact remains that if she could decide it all for them, it would be today, but the more she thinks about it and the longer her eyes roam his face, she becomes more sure of her answer.
Her fingers thread through his hair to comb it back away from his face as she admires him—his white hair, and the seas of blue in his eyes that she always seems to drown in... She huffs a laugh at how silly it sounds when she repeats the words over in her head, but if he really wants to know—]
no subject
Her fingers thread through his hair to comb it back away from his face as she admires him—his white hair, and the seas of blue in his eyes that she always seems to drown in... She huffs a laugh at how silly it sounds when she repeats the words over in her head, but if he really wants to know—]
The snow reminds me of you.
[And of simpler days.]