spring sunrises with you smell like the ocean, when it’s too cold for anyone else to come near it. you put your sweater around my shoulders and i dig my toes into the sandy footprints you made, and we watch the sun stain the ocean red. we have the whole beach to ourselves and it’s just us and the world and you whisper ‘i love you’.

summer nights with you smell like woodsmoke and fireworks. the stars are reflected in your eyes as you teach me all the constellations, and i have grass stains on my knees and mud under my fingernails from our day of adventures. i think i might fall asleep on your shoulder. i think you won’t mind.

fall afternoons with you smell like the apple pie we just tried to bake. it looks kind of messy but i think it smells just perfect, and you agree with me. as the wind rustles the bright red leaves outside and the cat meows, you hum softly. maybe i won’t make you do the dishes this time.

winter evenings with you smell like hot chocolate and popcorn. it’s too cold outside and it’s been dark for too long and i don’t like it anymore, but you smile warmly and wrap the blanket around us. when i still shiver you kiss my cheek and you whisper ‘as soon as spring comes, we’ll go to the beach.’