#gradient fun

You are my home.

You’re my anchor.

They’re older now, greyer around the temples and deeper lines at the eyes, but they’re themselves again. And it’s OK.

The cool autumnal breeze blowing over them through the cracked open window at sundown is in perfect contrast to the heat of each other.

They deserved Paris.

There’s nothing better than each other.

"You’re in your coveralls.”

It’s painful to imagine their arms being empty soon.