Letters Under the Moonlight

he way your eyes dance with the wind... I

always smelled like

cobbled streets like a whisper. Aria Lowell stood at the back door of Bloom & Vine, brushing petals from her apron. The

way up the hill that overlooked the harbor. There, tucked between two leani

g Spot, even though she mo

ly below. The lighthouse blinked slowly, like a sleepy eye watching over the town. And the m

sig

he quiet. S

ilies and peonies like they meant something, and pretend like sh

re seventeen," she'd say while pruning roses. "Th

idn't want

he feeling t

rd home. The walk was short, just a winding stone path past the baker's garden and throu

warm and yellow. Aria opened the door quietly, kicked off her shoes, and tipto

tic room, the one with the slant

eatly on her windows

Unmarke

pa

Locked, even. She had

kered like a c

hed, lifted the envelo

Aria, written in ink that shimme

d and slowly pull

g was neat. Sh

he way your eyes dance with the wind... I

was

signature. N

ad it

ag

he window. But the st

s. No shado

moonl

st time in what felt like years, it wasn't beca

eone - out there -

n h

ouldn't stop w