The autumn evening wrapped the city in a golden glow from streetlights, their soft reflections shimmering on the damp cobblestones. Fallen leaves, like the final sigh of a fading summer, crunched faintly underfoot. A light mist hung low to the ground, lending an air of quiet enchantment to the scene.

He stood still, holding his breath, captivated by her figure as if she were woven from the evening itself. The breeze toyed with her hair, and each step she took echoed like a melody only he could hear. The rhythmic tapping of her heels on the cobblestones carried his thoughts away. Everything else faded—the bustling city, the weight of the day. Only she remained, serene and radiant, the embodiment of autumn’s quiet grace.

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Suddenly, she stopped, as though she could feel his gaze, and slowly turned. Their eyes met. The green of her gaze—vivid and ethereal—washed over him, filling every corner of his being. Time seemed to halt. He melted into her eyes like the last ray of sunlight dissolving into the horizon.

He couldn’t say how long the moment lasted, but he knew one thing: he needed nothing else—no words, no promises, not even tomorrow. Just this moment, this autumn evening, this delicate and fleeting feeling of perfection in her presence.

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