“In the quiet of their mornings, he strummed her favorite songs.
On the staircase, she waited—half shy, half certain he would look her way.
In the garden, vows were whispered between the shadows of trees,
hands finding hands, promises stitched into silence.
And when the candles burned low, they held each other closer,
as if the night itself had chosen them as its only story.”
HUGO & PHUONG
