She was 'Autumn'—
warm, but always leaving
A soul stitched from golden light
and goodbyes she never stopped grieving

He was 'Winter'—
quiet, distant,
carving silence into the world
like someone used to resistance

They met
in the blur between late November
when leaves forget to hold on
and snow begins to remember
She smiled like the last fire in a cabin
He stared like someone who knew
the cost of warmth
and what it meant to lose it too soon

She spoke in colors—
scarlets and golds
words that cracked like twigs
but healed like poems never told
He answered in stillness
like frost on glass,
afraid that every touch
would make him shatter at last

But even frost can soften
Even storms can learn to stay
And slowly
she didn’t run
and he didn’t push her away
He let her fall apart in his arms
like leaves too tired to pretend
and she let his cold truth hold her—
not to fix
but to mend

They didn’t belong—
not in the way seasons are told
but somehow, in the ache of each other
they began to unfold

And there
in a world where nothing was meant to last
where autumn leaves and snowflakes
both belong to the past—
they built something quiet
something unknown—
a rhythm,
a whisper,
a heartbeat for a home.


Erennwrites