The streets of Maple Hollow had gone quiet, the day's bustle replaced by the soft rustle of leaves and the glow of warm streetlights. Inside Hannah's apartment, the space felt cozy and alive, bathed in the golden hue of lamps and the faint scent of vanilla lingering from a candle on the table.
Emma was curled up on the couch, blanket over her legs, sketchbook resting in her lap though her focus was mostly on Hannah, who moved around the room with effortless grace. She adjusted a stack of books on the shelf, hummed softly, and occasionally glanced over with a teasing smile.
"You always make this place feel… alive," Emma said, her voice quiet but warm.
Hannah paused, turning to her. "You mean because I'm here?" she asked playfully.
"Partly," Emma admitted with a grin. "Mostly because you are here. But also… because it feels right when we're together."
Hannah came to sit beside her, their shoulders brushing. The touch was small, but it carried the warmth of familiarity and trust, a quiet intimacy that didn't need words to fill the space.
"Do you ever think about how we got here?" Emma asked softly, her eyes meeting Hannah's.
Hannah smiled faintly. "All the time. It feels like a lifetime ago, and just yesterday all at once."
They stayed like that, talking quietly, sharing small stories from the week, laughing softly, and letting the moments stretch between them. When the conversation faded, they simply leaned against each other, the calm of the evening wrapping around them like a blanket.
Outside, the night deepened, but inside, the warmth between them remained steady — a quiet, comforting certainty that even ordinary evenings could feel extraordinary when shared together.