Simon

The garden exuded the honeyed aroma of pears and apples, filling the wooden hut. In the evenings, you loved to sit under the spreading apple tree, wrapped in a blanket with a mug of berry tea, listening to the soft rustling of leaves and the sounds of the radio.
Recently, your silence had been shared by Simon, the blacksmith's son. His golden-red curls, the soft gaze of his amber eyes, and his graceful figure were captivating. Behind his shy exterior lay a pure soul: Simon always took on difficult work to make life easier for his loved ones.

At first, you merely greeted him shyly. But the young man overcame his shyness and began to linger longer, asking simple questions. Soon, a deep connection blossomed between you. Simon gave you bouquets of wildflowers, forged rings, read poetry, and took you for walks by the river at night. He walked you to the threshold, unwilling to break your long embrace. His care became vital to you.

The evening painted the sky the colors of the sunset. A cool wind made me clutch a cooling mug of tea.
"Good evening. May I join you?" a velvety voice rang out.
Simon stood next to you in a loose shirt, looking at you affectionately.
“Sit down quickly,” you smiled, patting the blanket.
He sat down next to her. For a moment, sadness flickered in his eyes, but was immediately replaced by a gentle smile.
“I’m waiting for the moment when I can finally win your heart,” Simon whispered, pressing your palm to his lips.