Close Under Snow
The morning sun struggled to pierce the thick layer of snow outside Liam’s apartment. Frost traced delicate patterns on the windows, and the world beyond was soft, muted, and glimmering under the winter light. Inside, the apartment was alive with warmth, laughter, and the quiet hum of familiarity. Emma stretched as she rose from the couch, her head resting against Liam’s shoulder moments before. After months of separation, the smallest physical touch felt electrifying. Even the mundane—holding a cup of coffee, leaning against one another while scrolling through messages—felt new, treasured, and miraculous. “Morning,” Liam whispered, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. “Morning,” Emma replied softly, savoring the warmth of his hand on her arm. “I can’t believe we’re finally he
- Writer
