Love is the color of sunsets

I like the kind of evenings when there is just enough of a breeze that even though we are wearing jeans and t-shirts, I could order hot cocoa without looking out of place and we would take turns sipping out of one cup and I wouldn't have to be embarrassed about how my hands are always cold because I could discreetly warm them up while holding my hot drink. We would meander home at a leisurely pace, enjoying the perfection of simplicity, and you would chuckle to yourself and little crinkles would crease around your eyes, and I would know that you are about to make another one of your terrible jokes, and we would both start laughing and some hot cocoa might spill out of the cup but I would just kiss it off your fingers, or you off mine, and it would be sweet in both senses of the word. Moments like these would be their own little time capsule, lasting forever, with pink clouds above us and our footsteps in sync below.

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