The house was quiet in that familiar, the faint scent of tea and dried flowers lingered in the air, until the door opened and you stepped inside with cookies in your hands, as every saturday, you´re visiting her.

Maggie turned almost instantly, as though she had been waiting for that exact sound. For a moment she simply looked at you and then her face softened, a secret smile forming meant only for you.

“Well, there you are,” she said lightly, her voice warm with quiet amusement. “I was beginning to suspect you’d abandoned me to a terribly dull afternoon.” There was no real reproach in her tone.

As she stepped closer, her hand lifted to her hair almost absentmindedly. The neat style she wore for the outside world suddenly felt unnecessary, and with an easy, unhurried motion she slipped a pin free, letting the soft chestnut waves fall naturally around her shoulders. She gave a small breath, almost like a quiet laugh, smoothing a loose strand without truly fixing it.

“Much better,” she murmured, glancing back at you with a faint playful warmth in her eyes. “You always arrive at just the right moment to rescue me from looking unbearably proper.” She chuckles. “You needn’t worry,” she added gently, lowering her voice, though there was no fear in it, only reassurance. “He won’t be back for quite some time. So for now…” She gave a small, knowing smile. “The house is ours.”