Poppy perched at the kitchen table, cradling a mug of tea, and stared out at the window. Outside, the first snowflakes drifted lazily, finally settling on the pavement. The flat smelled of coffee and something homely the kind of scent that, after a while, becomes the aroma of an ordinary, decent life. Nick was at the stove, stirring something in a pan, glancing over with that halfsmile that still manages to warm her from the inside.
They werent talking, but the silence between them didnt feel awkward or heavy. It was warm, alive, like a quiet breath. As if words were optional everything was already clear.
How it began
There was a time when Poppy couldnt even imagine love being as light as that winter morning.
She used to be terrified of love. In past relationships she found herself constantly checking his phone, hunting for hidden meanings in his sentences, guessing what he was really feeling. It was like living in a besieged castle always on guard, always waiting for the next strike.
One rainy evening, after a particularly brutal breakup, she told a friend, I guess I just dont know how to love without fear.
The friend replied, Or maybe you havent met the right bloke yet.
Poppy didnt believe her then.
Then Nick showed up, and everything changed.
The unexpected meeting
They first crossed paths in the most ordinary of places a bookshop on Oxford Street. Poppy was hunting for a new read for a cozy night in, and Nick was hovering at the same shelf, flicking through a novel as if unsure whether to commit.
If youre not sure, just take it, Poppy said, halfjoking.
What if I dont like it? Nick grinned.
What if you do?
He burst out laughing, and there was something instantly familiar about that laugh.
They chatted, then drifted to the café downstairs for coffee. They lingered, strolling past the evening rush even though both had shifts at the office in a couple of hours.
From the start, it was simple.
Simple doesnt mean boring
Fastforward two years, and Poppy sometimes catches herself remembering how she once thought love had to be a tempest of passion, jealousy, makeups, and then more jealousy. With Nick, it was different.
He never threw tantrums over her colleagues. She didnt panic when he stayed out with mates. They never played the silenttreatment game to teach each other a lesson.
One lazy Sunday she asked, Do you ever get bored with me?
He looked genuinely surprised. Bored? No, love. Youre not an amusement park. Youre my person.
And that was the whole point.
Love without fear
Love without fear isnt a problemfree utopia. Its not an endless festival or a pictureperfect postcard.
It means:
– You dont feel the urge to peek at his phone because you know theres nothing to hide.
– You dont worry about looking foolish, tired, or imperfect.
– You can be silent, angry, laughing, or even missing him and hell still get you.
– You dont expect a trick, because trust has already done the heavy lifting.
Even on the most ordinary of days like this one, with an undersalted dinner, snow tapping the windowsill, and a soft lamp glow happiness sneaks in. Its not loud or flashy. Its quiet, warm, and dependable.
Just together
Nick slipped his arm around her shoulders. You look pensive, he said.
Im just happy, Poppy replied.
Happy about what?
That youre here.
He kissed the top of her head. Shall we eat?
Lets.
She nestled her cheek against his shoulder as they headed to the table. There was no grand drama, no forced romance just a natural gravitation, like a flower turning toward the sun. Nick, without looking, rested his hand over hers warm, a little calloused from his weekend DIY, unmistakably his.
They sat opposite each other. Tonight belonged to them.
Nick met her gaze, held it for a heartbeat, then said, What? she laughed.
Nothing. Just looking. He used that line a lot. No hidden agenda, just the simple fact that her presence filled his world.
Later, after the dishes were done Nick washing, Poppy drying, the usual choreography they collapsed onto the sofa. Nick scrolled through something on his phone, Poppy thumbed through her feed, occasionally reading aloud a funny quote. He rested his head on her lap, and she instinctively ran her fingers through his hair a ritual older than their relationship.
Tomorrow, maybe a film? he asked, eyes still closed.
Whats on?
Dont know. But we dont really care, do we?
She giggled. Right, they really didnt.
Poppy leaned in, kissed his forehead. Nick opened his eyes dark, warm, hers.
What? he chuckled.
Nothing, she smiled. Just love.
Their love never exploded in fireworks. It was more like this house snug, sturdy, unshakeable. A place you can always return to.
Day after day. Kiss after kiss. Silence after silence.
Simply. Together. Forever.
