The fire pit crackles low between us, casting soft amber light against the twilight sky. The trees around the garden sway gently in the breeze, their leaves whispering above the roof of our little cottage. Yip, the one with the sunroom Xavier insisted we needed, even though he only uses it on quiet mornings to read poetry with his legs folded beneath him and a blanket wrapped around his shoulders.There’s music drifting from the outdoor speaker, low and mellow. Something acoustic, soft around the edges. A breeze carries the scent of grilled peaches and jasmine, wrapping around the four of us in lazy tendrils as the last stretch of golden hour melts into dusk.Tyler is curled into one of the patio chairs, blanket thrown around his shoulders like a shawl, hair in a messy bun on top of his head. He’s got a mug in one hand, half-full with lukewarm tea he keeps forgetting to drink, and a sleepy baby balanced across his chest, her little hand tucked against his throat like she owns him.Wh
Huling Na-update : 2025-05-21 Magbasa pa