With the winter solstice approaching, she had a rare day off. She leaned over the desk wearing nothing but a sweater, the pen in her hand never once pausing.
She sent off the letter, breathed into her hands to warm them, and watched the last patches of snow on the long street, soon to melt away.
Time and again, they met and passed each other by. Time and again, they looked back, their gazes crossing and then slipping away.
After many twists and turns, lovers will eventually meet.
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