Life moves through seasons, each one distinct, each with its own rhythm and lesson. There are the springs of our lives, filled with new beginnings, growth, and the bright promise of what’s to come. It’s a time of discovery, when everything feels fresh, possibilities stretching out before us like the first blossoms after winter. Then comes summer, full of warmth and energy, where life is at its fullest. And here comes the Autumn—a season you never thought you needed, but it quietly became your favorite.
Autumn reminds you of his eyes, especially when the sunlight filters through, his eyes glow with a warm, blazing hue, like autumn afternoons where the world feels quieter. You’re jealous of his lashes, impossibly long and thick, flutter like leaves stirred by a gentle breeze. Each blink feels like the slow fall of golden leaves, graceful and steady. His curls—soft, wild, and untamed—mirror the way leaves begin to turn, each one uniquely beautiful. But it’s his smile that lingers the longest, like the last burst of warmth before the chill sets in. It’s the kind of smile that feels like wrapping up in your favorite sweater on a cool autumn morning, something that warms you from the inside out. What a gorgeous man he is.
Yet beyond the softness of his appearance, there’s a firmness in him, like the sturdy oaks that remain standing as the leaves fall away. He’s manly in a way that feels natural, not forced, a quiet strength like the crisp autumn air that steadies everything in its path. There’s a groundedness to him, a reliability that feels as constant as the changing of the seasons. He is responsible, much like the harvest—a time to gather, protect, and prepare. You can see it in the way he carries himself, always thinking of those who rely on him, never letting the weight of responsibility crush him. His decisions are as firm as the earth beneath your feet, his words measured, like the way autumn brings clarity after the heat of summer.
And so, as the days grow shorter and the nights cooler, you find yourself thinking about him more—his eyes, his curls, his lashes, that smile, and the steadfastness beneath it all. There’s a pull, like the way autumn quietly draws you in, with its colors and its crisp air. It’s not overwhelming, but steady, like a season of change you didn’t realize you were waiting for. He is autumn—beautiful in his own quiet way, firm and constant, yet full of warmth in unexpected ways.
Red
Writings of Red 