The parentheses of his smile seem to be an infinity of quotation commas to a story perhaps their little tale. So, it won’t ever end.

As he laughs, his special lady seems to pause for a second before returning it back.

The balmy wind flows in where who knows where, I wish and cross my fingers that it would whisk away those secret whispers between them.

For it seems to be the ingredients for happiness.

There comes that shiver of such tangible affection and love again.
It is enveloping them everywhere, its inside their eyes, it permeates the very air.