26 November 2012
As you slowly strummed your guitar at the speed of the snow falling outside, I hummed a traditional tune that's meaning had been warped by the ravages winters past. The fire sparked and popped gently, and our marshmallows were reduced to puddles in the embers.
I tentatively slipped my arm around your shoulder and stroked the back of your blessed head.
And although we said nothing, I swear we had never been closer before nor since
Acoustic Sessions • Opuss № I