The late afternoon settled over the village like a warm breath, softening the air with golden light. Beyond the fields, the sky blushed with the first hints of sunset, and a slow, steady breeze danced through the trees, carrying with it the faint sound of laughter and distant conversations.
Artur and Billy stepped outside, the wooden floor of the porch creaking softly beneath their feet. Neither said much at first. They simply stood there, side by side, soaking in the peace that wrapped around them like an old, familiar blanket.
Billy, with an easy smile, let his head fall against Artur's shoulder, nestling there as if he belonged. His hand brushed lightly against Artur's, their fingers tangling without thought.
For a long moment, they said nothing — and in that silence, everything was said.
