Amor

A courtyard path is lined with pale petals that have just shaken off a cold night. The air carries a clean floral presence that feels fresh rather than sugary, with a gentle weight that settles into the wool of a coat without pressing on the skin. Someone walks slowly past a row of windows where the glass is fogged at the edges, and the scent moves with her like a second layer that belongs to the morning.

There is no sharp edge here, only a soft arrangement of blossoms that seem to lean toward each other rather than stand apart. The fragrance sits close in the cool air, wrapping the space between a scarf and a collar in a way that feels intentional and calm. Light catches the petals on a nearby branch, and the same floral character drifts through the stillness as footsteps crunch against the ground.

A hand reaches for a gate latch while the air continues to hold that same floral clarity, undisturbed by the movement or the shifting light along the stone. The moment stretches as the petals tremble and the cold air keeps everything in place, the scent lingering in the space between one breath and the next while the day continues to unfold around

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