Winter's Farewell

​🇨​​🇭​​🇦​​🇵​​🇹​​🇪​​🇷 𝟏𝟖₁₈

Sunday arrived with a gray sky, and a light drizzle spattered the windows of Claire's apartment. She sat on the living room floor, a book open in her hands, and a cup of coffee cooling on the table. It hadn't even been a full day since she opened the memory box, and the weight of what she had found still hung in her mind like a persistent echo.

She had decided to send Leevi a message. Something brief, an invitation without too much pressure, but enough to remind him she was still there. It had been weeks since they last saw each other, and though she always tried to justify the distance with excuses about routine, she knew something deeper was pulling them apart.

Claire: Hey, I was thinking we could meet up; it's been a while since we talked.

The response took longer than she expected. While waiting, she tried to distract herself with other tasks: fluffing the sofa cushions, washing the dishes that had piled up in the sink, checking her email. But every so often, she'd glance at her phone, hoping to see the notification. Finally, the message arrived.

Leevi: I could stop by later. At your place?

It wasn't the warm, enthusiastic tone she remembered, but it was enough.

"Okay, I'll see you here," she said quietly, as if saying it aloud would give the message more weight.

In the hours that followed, Claire prepared. Not because she had to, but because something about the idea of seeing him made her nervous, like she needed to ensure everything was just right. She put on some soft music, tidied up the living room, and made some tea, remembering how much Leevi liked it with honey.

Finally, the doorbell rang. When she opened the door, there he was, standing with his hands in the pockets of his coat and a tired expression on his face. His hair was damp from the rain, and he seemed to have smoked just before arriving, as the faint smell of tobacco lingered in the air.

"Hey," Leevi said, with a faint smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Come in," Claire replied, stepping aside.

Leevi entered, shrugging off his coat and leaving his boots by the door. His presence immediately filled the space, as it always did, but this time there was a tension Claire couldn't ignore. As he settled onto the couch, she offered him a cup of tea.

"Thanks," he said, taking the cup without really looking at her.

For a while, there was silence between them. Claire wasn't sure how to break it, but the discomfort wasn't something she was used to with Leevi. Before, they could talk about anything, or even enjoy the silences without them feeling strange. Now, it felt like there was an invisible wall between them.

"How are you?" Claire finally asked.

"Fine, I guess. Busy with work, you know," he replied, staring at his cup.

"And music? Have you been making anything new?"

Leevi shrugged.

"A little, but nothing important."

Claire nodded, feeling like every brief response was widening the gap between them. She decided to try something different.

"I found something the other day," she said, standing to retrieve the wooden box. She placed it on the table in front of him and opened it.

Leevi looked at the contents silently, his eyes stopping on the photo Claire had seen the night before. He picked it up, examining it as if trying to recall that day.

"It's cold, isn't it?" he remarked, almost as if speaking to himself. "It was cold that day too."

Claire sat beside him, watching him as he spoke.

"That was one of my favorite days," she said sincerely. "I'm glad I kept this."

Leevi nodded but said nothing more. For a moment, Claire thought she might have made a mistake by bringing out the box. But then, he set the photo on the table and looked directly at her.

"Why did you keep all this?"

"Because they're important memories to me," she replied, a lump forming in her throat. "Because... you're important to me."

Leevi averted his gaze, rubbing the bridge of his nose as if trying to hide something.

"Sometimes I don't know what to do with that, Claire."

"With what?"

"With the way you always make me feel like I'm someone who matters, even when I don't believe it myself."

The words surprised both of them. Claire felt her heart beat faster but forced herself to stay calm.

"That's because you are, Leevi. And no matter how much you try to convince me otherwise, I'm not going to change my mind."

For a moment, Leevi seemed like he wanted to respond, but instead, he stood up from the couch and walked to the window. He watched the rain hit the glass, his silhouette framed by the dim light of the room.

"I can't always be the friend you need," he finally said, his voice barely audible.

"I don't need you to be perfect," Claire replied, standing to approach him. "I just need you to be here."

Leevi didn't respond immediately. When he finally spoke, his voice carried a vulnerability he rarely showed.

"I'm trying, Claire. I really am."

She looked at him, seeing the internal struggle in his eyes. For the first time in a long time, she felt words weren't necessary.

The two of them stayed there, watching the rain fall. There were no immediate solutions or grand promises, but in that moment, Claire decided that maybe, just maybe, the fact that Leevi had come was enough.