Winter, Gently

 

Winter, Gently

The nights changed without asking.
They became slower, warmer — as if winter itself had learned her name.

She would sit by the window, not waiting, not hoping, just knowing. Somewhere, someone she loved was breathing the same dark, wrapped in the same cold. The distance between them existed, but it no longer mattered. Some closeness doesn’t measure itself in steps or walls.

Their hearts had found a rhythm — subtle, unspoken.
No promises spoken aloud.
No need to explain.

Every night, their souls met quietly, the way rivers meet the sea — naturally, without effort. She felt it in the calm of her chest, in the softness of her thoughts. Love didn’t arrive loudly. It stayed gently.

Winter passed through the hours, but it never touched her the same way again.
Because somewhere in the silence, she was not alone.
She was chosen — softly, steadily —
and that was enough.