Outside, the rain turned into a soft mist. Inside, the world felt still. They weren't looking for a perfect ending anymore—just a new beginning. Because this time, they weren't going to let the music stop.
Clara smiled, a small, fragile thing. "Maybe we just weren't ready then." Maybe This Time - Michael Martin Murphey (Lyrics) рџЋµ
"I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be," she replied, her eyes searching his. Outside, the rain turned into a soft mist
He didn't have to look up to know it was Clara. Some rhythms are burned into the soul—the way she shook her umbrella, the specific cadence of her boots on the hardwood. " she replied
He reached out, his fingers brushing hers. "We missed it the first time, didn't we?"