Life didn't pause—it kept moving. Some days felt like a dream, others like a storm. But no matter what season came, we chose to face it side by side.
Winter came late that year, but it came harshly. The cold bit through our small home, and sometimes the gas heater refused to work. Zeon would pull me closer beneath the blankets, holding me tightly like I was something he never wanted to let go of. We'd warm our hands with cups of tea and our hearts with quiet conversations.
"I used to hate the cold," I whispered one night.
"What changed?" he asked.
"You," I smiled. "Now I love any season that brings me closer to you."
He kissed my forehead. "Then I'll give you a lifetime of winters."
---
Spring was kinder. Flowers bloomed outside our gate, and I started planting tiny herbs on our windowsill—mint, basil, and spinach. Zeon teased me about my "farm dreams," but every morning he watered them while I got dressed for class.
We started celebrating our little victories. I passed a difficult subject. He hit a savings goal. We even found time to take a short weekend trip to the coast with nothing but snacks, cheap sunglasses, and laughter. We didn't need luxury—just each other.
That trip was magic. Watching the sun set over the water with his arms around me, I knew: no matter how life changed, this was my person.
---
Summer tested us again. Zeon's workplace faced budget cuts. His hours were reduced. I was pushing through final exams and barely sleeping. Stress crept into our conversations—shorter replies, colder silences.
One night, after a tense moment, I finally broke down.
"I feel like I'm losing you."
He sat beside me quietly, then said, "You're not. I'm just scared too. I don't want to fail us."
That was the moment I realized—we were both still learning. Still scared. Still growing.
So we made space for our feelings. We listened more. We held each other tighter. We reminded each other of our why.
And slowly, the warmth came back.
---
Autumn brought calm. He got offered a better position in a new company. I started tutoring part-time. We had a little more breathing room financially. More laughs. More peace.
We'd sit outside in the early evenings, watching the leaves fall, fingers laced together.
"You think we'll make it?" I asked once.
He looked at me with that steady gaze. "We already are."
---
Through every season—cold or warm, heavy or light—we grew.
Because we didn't just fall in love.
We stayed there.
We chose each other again and again.
No matter what life gave us.