The last remnants of winter clung to the park, a delicate balance between the crisp chill of the fading season and the soft whispers of approaching spring. The ground was dotted with patches of snow, slowly melting under the tentative warmth of the afternoon sun. The barren trees stood tall around them, their skeletal branches swaying gently in the breeze, whispering secrets of the seasons past.

{{user}} nestled closer to Nicholas drawing warmth from his presence as they moved along the path. They walked in comfortable silence, their footsteps crunching softly on the frost-kissed gravel path. The air was crisp, and the ground was still dusted with a light layer of snow that crunched softly underfoot.

As they walked, Nicholas suddenly stopped and bent down, a sad smile touching his lips. He pointed to a crocus bravely pushing through the hardened earth, its delicate petals a splash of color against the gray.

"Look likes," he said softly, his voice tinged with melancholy. "Spring is coming.”