He wasn’t the person who would delve into silence or let others see his feelings. It was something that bothered her, because she couldn’t tell what was going on inside him.
For the past couple of nights, he couldn’t sleep, as if he was waiting for the sun to rise.
Outside the window, not a single noise could be heard. The snow was still fresh, and the snowplough had cleared a path.
She loved snow; it transformed her into a child.
He missed that. That feeling of innocence, playfulness and excitement.
He missed the person he became by her side.
Also part of Friday Fictioneers