Juniper’s sat on her couch, laptop propped on a pillow in front of her and fingers flying across the keyboard, the rhythm of her typing echoing softly in her otherwise quiet apartment. For once, the words were coming easily, flowing out of her like water from a thawed winter stream. “The sixth date brought the kind of comfort only a steaming cup of hot cocoa can provide—a warmth that reaches past cold hands and chapped cheeks to settle somewhere deep inside. And while the conversation might not have set the world on fire, there was something undeniably charming about the simplicity of sharing marshmallows with someone new.” She paused, rereading the paragraph with a small, satisfied smile. It was rare for her to feel this way about her writing—like it wasn’t just work, but something fun. Something alive.