On that New Year's Eve, something magical happened. I found myself next to someone who once made me believe that forever could be spent by their side. That night, under a sky full of stars, with fireflies dancing around us and the cool night air enveloping us, we were together. The soft glow of lanterns lit up the traditional house, and it felt as though time had stopped just for us. We lay there, our hands gently entwined, sharing the silence of the night. The cold seemed to fade with every touch. He softly stroked my head, concern clearly visible on his face as he checked my temperature. "Are you feeling feverish?" he whispered with care. I smiled gently, saying, "Your hands are so cold," to reassure him that I was fine. His fingers traced my face, gently caressing every curve, and guided my hands to do the same to his. Our hands locked together as if sealing a promise. The cold air no longer mattered; the warmth we shared became the only thing that existed. His kiss on the back of my hand was soft, full of love, as though without words, he was declaring his feelings. In that tender moment, I felt something both beautiful and bittersweet. I was lost in the happiness of then, yet a quiet fear lingered in my heart—what if this moment would end? But for now, I didn’t want to think about the future. I wanted to hold onto this memory, to savor the touch, the closeness, and the love that hung in the air, knowing that whatever the future held, tonight was ours.