He hesitated in the doorway. Not out of fear—48Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEOfN1uCTQZ
But shame.
I recognized him before he stepped inside.48Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTMkMNC0fUd
The slope of his shoulders was heavier now.48Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjQCNnFQI0m
His eyes searched the tavern like it might accuse him of leaving.
But we keep no clocks here.48Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBvXgBiCIfy
And the door remembers no judgment.
“I thought it would be gone,” he said.48Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmgVv8lqpBb
“I thought you would be gone.”
I nodded toward his old seat. The one beneath the hook that once held his traveling cloak.
He sat. Slowly. As though waiting for something to break.
I had already started brewing before he arrived.
A cup for return. One that holds warmth longer than most.48Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡR92BwgkQLY
Crafted from emberleaf, driftcane, and a single drop of dew from a blade of grass found near the doorstep, long ago.
When I placed it in front of him, his hands trembled.
“You remembered,” he whispered.
“Of course,” I said.
He did not ask how long it had been.48Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡozSvydoCxK
And I did not answer.48Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhKcUSHQ9dZ
Some reunions are measured only in presence.
When he finally smiled, it was quiet—like a wound remembering how to heal.
ns216.73.216.56da2
and then Add to home screen.