Submission (#2600) Approved

he language of love. Even without words, you can feel the warmth of different expressions of feelings. The cold end of winter brings hope of a soon change of season. The thoughts of warm spring days provide a prosperous mood.

The cold wind didn't stop Miloti from getting to the park. What prompted her to leave the house on such a cold evening? The park had been chosen to hold a grand fireworks display in honor of everyone's great successes this month. The green-haired girl wasn't the only one who was compelled by the event to leave her cozy home. A wide variety of faces had gathered outside. What was unexpected was how Miloti's attention quickly drifted to the tall lady in the crowd. Kim. It wasn't hard to recognize her among the crowd of gawkers who had come out to watch the performance. The girls might not have crossed paths that often, but this meeting was still better than enjoying the fireworks alone.

Kim's gaze quietly shifted to a somewhat familiar figure as Miloti gently signaled that she was near the girl, tugging lightly on the lady's scarf. The white-haired woman's eyes stopped on the green-haired woman's visor with a kind of judgment and coldness without moving. Despite the indifferent sparkle that flashed through Kim's demeanor, her averted eyes to the sky, where fireworks were soon to appear, were followed by an imperceptible nod to greet the girl. Miloti nodded back, also shifting her gaze to the overcast sky.

Tranquility. Such quiet tranquility in such a bustling place. The girls gazed skyward, waiting for those last few minutes before the sky would light up with color. Kim cast a quick glance at her friend and took her time pulling her scarf away from her neck with her finger. The white-haired girl's hands wrap the scarf around Miloti's visor with slight displeasure, blocking her view of the sky. Dumbfounded, the green-haired woman immediately reached for the scarf, lowering the scarf to a loud extended squeak. And - boom! The sky is covered in all sorts of colorful droplets. Miloti's hands freeze on the scarf as the girl watches the sky in silence in amazement. The crowd around cheered, getting their long awaited performance. And they did. They remained in silence.

The language of love comes in many forms. Not necessarily conversational, not necessarily intimate. But you're bound to recognize it. You will.