"Two beauties in love with each other, a rare sight to behold, especially here in Longyearbyen," Whitney remarked, her voice laced with both admiration and a hint of melancholy as she stepped closer to Tyrone. The icy winds of the Arctic town seemed to carry her words, echoing the unspoken complexities of love and desire that hung palpably in the air.
Whitney had seen James's quiet, intense look on Aleysia for a long time. He came back every summer, a steady but courteous shadow that passed the time while he tried to figure out what Aleysia was all about.
It was as if he was a diligent person, always taking meticulous notes in his head, savouring each detail, each fleeting moment spent in Aleysia's company.
Whitney used to think that a good man was someone who took their time and knew how to be patient in love, a lot like what James has done for five years. His texts were simple but meaningful.
