En cours de chargement...
It started with a brisk wind sweeping in from the fjord, carrying with it the sharp scent of pine and salt. The air, crisp and biting, filled your lungs like the first taste of winter, always too cold, yet somehow invigorating. Snow had begun to fall, tiny, delicate flakes that settled on rooftops, trees, and cobblestones with a soft and almost ethereal quietness. You could hear the faint crunch beneath your feet, feel the slight sting on your cheeks as you walked the narrow street that led to the heart of the town.
This was the season that everyone spoke of-an enchantment that blanketed everything, a sense of stillness and mystery. People hurried about, their breath visible in the icy air, bustling from shop to shop, arms loaded with gifts and warm food. Christmas lights twinkled in the windows, strung with care along the houses and shops, their soft glow casting golden halos through the snowy dusk. The town's clock tower chimed in the distance, marking time, as if the world could afford to slow down, just for these few precious days.
The smell of freshly baked bread and cinnamon buns drifted from the bakery on the corner. The rich scent curled through the chill and tempted you toward the warmth of the shop. Inside, people crowded together, laughter and conversation mixing with the clink of coffee cups and the crackle of the wood-burning stove. Here, the town felt alive, bustling, and close-knit, like everyone had a shared understanding of what this time meant.
Outside, beyond the glow of the café, the snow kept falling, thicker now, a blanket settling over the streets, readying the town for the long night ahead. In that moment, standing there, surrounded by the closeness of it all, you couldn't help but feel the pull. There was something in the air beyond the holiday cheer, a sense of something else-something you hadn't felt in a long time. You weren't quite sure if it was the warmth of the café or the sight of couples stealing kisses under the mistletoe, but the feeling stirred deep, buried beneath the layers of busy schedules and distractions.
You brushed the snow from your coat and stepped inside, the warmth wrapping around you instantly, as if welcoming you home. You scanned the room and saw familiar faces, townspeople you'd known for years. Yet, in the midst of it all, there was someone who stood apart. Her eyes caught yours across the room-a fleeting moment that felt like a lifetime. She was different from the others, not in appearance, but in the way she held herself, the way she seemed to exist just slightly out of step with everyone around her.
You knew her, of course. Everyone in the town knew everyone else. But this time was different. It was as if the snow, the lights, the laughter, and the warmth were all just a backdrop for this moment. She didn't look away when your eyes met. Instead, she smiled, a small, knowing smile that held the same familiarity the town itself carried, and yet, there was something new in it. Something you hadn't noticed before.
Perhaps it was the way the soft lights played off her features, or maybe it was the quiet confidence in the way she stood. Your heart raced, and suddenly the crowded room felt far too small, the noise too loud. You felt yourself drifting toward her, not by any conscious decision but because it was the only thing that made sense. The distance between you seemed to disappear as you moved through the room, past familiar faces and old friends, until you stood before her, close enough to see the faint flush of pink on her cheeks, a subtle contrast to the pale winter air."You made it through the snow, " she said, her voice soft, but with an edge of amusement."I almost didn't, " you replied, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.
You sounded too eager, too caught up, but it was the truth. There was no point in pretending otherwise. "But here I am."