They’ve been together since the very first sketch — two tiny shapes on the same piece of paper, stitched from neighboring scraps of mohair.
He insists yellow suits her better; she says gray makes him look mysterious. They argue about buttons, tea temperature, and who gets to sit closer to the window.

But every evening, they end up side by side — arms crossed, proud as ever, pretending it’s coincidence.
Their silence hums softly, like cedar shavings inside their chests — warm, stubborn, full of life.

And tomorrow, when the sun reaches the worktable again, they’ll pick another topic to disagree about — just to stay close..