Night fell, and the house was quiet, except for the faintest glow along the ceiling.
She heard whispers, soft and warm, like threads of moonlight brushing her ear.
He had been fixing the water heater silently, tidying up the chaotic bills, tending the garden that no one noticed. She realized the magic wasn't in the floating dishes or sparkling floors—it was in him, quietly shaping their life.
Every unnoticed effort, every small sacrifice, became a spell in itself, binding them closer than words ever could.
True love speaks softly, even when no words are spoken.