Love Unspoken

With a swift, decisive motion, Quinn extended her hand to seize the notebook.

As if anticipating her move, he deftly flicked his wrist, tucking the notebook behind his shoulder, far from her reach.

Her hand lingered in the air, fingers curled in a silent plea, while she bit her lip. Her eyes, a striking contrast of black and white, were fixed on him with an intensity that was almost palpable."Who do you wish to share the sight of the flowers with?" he asked, his voice echoing in the silence."And who would you choose to accompany you in the hot air balloon?"Quinn's eyelashes fluttered in surprise, and she shook her head.

She hadn't considered the idea of company; her list was merely a safeguard against forgetfulness. She harbored a fear that in a moment of blank memory, she would lose sight of those simple wishes. What came naturally to others, she feared, would become regrets in her own vacant spaces.

Alexander's gaze upon her turned icy, a stark contrast to the warmth of their previous exchange.

He gently held her chin, his voice low and insistent, "Tell me, who do you wish to accompany?"His grip was not harsh-in fact, it was tender-but the intensity radiating from him made it difficult for Quinn to draw breath.

voice was faint, reminiscent

made you feel insignificant.""I was unaware that your heart had wandered so far away."Quinn reached for his

hastily scribbled text, before glancing at Quinn.Upon catching his gaze,

Quinn's eyes. Stunned, Quinn watched as he continued to rip

as if what he had just destroyed was of no consequence. The bits of paper drifted around Quinn, settling in her hair and on her shoulders,

his steps stirring the scattered scraps further.Quinn stood silently in the living room, her gaze

kneel down and begin gathering the shredded paper, like insignificant wishes

on the floor, gathering the pieces from under the coffee table, then those hidden beneath the sofa. From the second floor, Alexander watched her, hands in his pockets, his gaze focused

meticulous care, as if she was gathering rare treasures. He couldn't have known that what he had so carelessly shredded were things Quinn had struggled to remember. Perhaps by tomorrow, she would