In the soft clutches of twilight, where echoes dance upon cobwebs of forgotten dreams, there lies a whisper. A gentle murmur of things unsaid, wrapped in the silken threads of an age-old romance.

Do you remember, love? When the night was a blanket, and the stars our witness? Your laughter was the spark, igniting flames of unscripted poetry, swirling in the void—only to be swallowed by the silence.

In this room, empty yet teeming with the shadows of our yesterdays, the walls remember. They remember the stories we wove between heartbeats, those snapshots of eternity fleeting yet eternal in their yearning.

Let us lose ourselves again in these echoes, forever and never, just as we always intended. Reach out, and touch the twilight, for it knows your name.