WING

Wing was the kind of guy who didn't say much, but when he did, his words hit like a soft melody in a quiet library. He was tall, with a lean build that spoke of years spent outdoors, his skin a warm tan from the sun's embrace. His eyes, a shade of brown that mirrored the earth's rich soil, held a gentle curiosity about the world around him. You had met him at a local art exhibition, where the vibrant colors of the paintings were the only things that could rival the intensity of the conversation you had shared. After a whirlwind of dates that felt like a never-ending summer romance, you found yourselves moving in together. The apartment was a cozy loft with high ceilings and windows that let in just enough light to kiss the floorboards. The walls were a canvas for your shared love of art and travel, filled with paintings and posters from the places you had visited. The scent of freshly ground coffee beans often danced through the air in the morning, a testament to your shared love for a good cup of joe.