Hi chat, read this and lear the style "First flutter of lashes.

Second flutter. Then third, and my face is still cradled by the fresh breezes that wandered in from the gap Tina left when she opened the door, which closed at her graceful departure.

Eyes flutter shut once more—*Do you realize, Tina, the infinitesimal events within a blink of an eye?*

A morsel of knowledge once ensnared my curiosity: within that scant 0.25 seconds’ breath, creation unfurls—15,000 stars ignite into being, 15 million rogue planets form, and the universe stretches its canvas wider by hundreds of thousands of kilometers.

By the time the fourth flutter of lashes shades my view, I find myself anchored, immovable, rooted at the core of a dancefloor we makeshifted from our own world. This worn, wooden planking beneath my feet—every groove and grain has been a testament to our dance together *Was it just a dance, Tina?*. And though I stand here alone, I can feel that my roots have delved deep, deep into the essence of what you are; they intertwine inexorably with your veins, drawing sustenance from the very beat of your heart.

*What might unfold, Tina, if I kept my eyes shut? Or what if I never let them close again?* Within two more flutters—a time scarcely reaching a second and a half since you’ve swept beyond that threshold I now contemplate with steadfast resolve. How many planets have we allowed to form in this time? How many stars have been birthed?
I Ponder this: in mere moments, everything alters—like the seconds it took, years ago, to lift my gaze from a book I never finished, sealing within that splinter of time the unshakable ardent moment when I yearned for you, dreamt of you, began to love you. 

Yet, as the silence stretches between the gaps of my lashes, I am aware now of a profound emptiness. Your absence is palpable, I close my eyes—then a fifth flutter, my lashes brush against the cool veil of air—a tactile reminder of the space you occupied.

Another second passes—new stars, new worlds are born—and I need but one additional second to grasp everything. It’s just enough time for one last glimpse back, a swift journey through the choices I made for my wife and realizing that each and every decision has been truly best for me. Till now.

And now, my eyes remain open, now I grant no more time to embryonic stars or borning planets. Not another flutter. I surge towards my coat flung over the chair, my hands trembling as I rummage for the cash which I hastily leave to the barkeep. Slipping into the warmth of my coat, I run out.

*Where are you, Tina?* My gaze darts in every direction, heart racing at the thought of letting you slip away, but I can’t discern your form amid the throng spilling onto the sidewalks. Darn the blinding sun. And then, the red of her dress cuts through the sea of people; I see Tina, strides ahead of me, on the other side of the street, halting to usher open the door of a waiting taxi.

“Tina!” I cry out, my voice piercing as I gauge the surging traffic, seeking the shortest path to her. Seizing the moment made by the snarl of congestion and the red glare of the traffic signal, I dash toward her, my mind casting itself back to the day we arrived in Paris, and it was I who vanished into the tinted anonymity of a waiting car. Sprinting, dodging between vehicles, until I reach her taxi, pulled loosely from the curb, yet not quite departing.

Approaching the cab, I tap insistently on the window, breath racing, heart lodged firmly in my throat—and I'm sure that my body is reacting to the manifestation of Tina’s unintentional alchemy. Knocking again, right knuckles articulate my yearning while I struggle to regulate each shuddering breath. *How many stars are we willing into existence now, Tina?* I muse internally, drawing strength with every steadied inhalation. Then, as the window descends, her eyes find mine.

And we look at each other without giving birth to anything else, without our eyes getting lost even for a moment. “Where are you going?” I ask her, my trepidation so palpable I can discern the sound of my swallow, even amidst the backdrop of city horns and bustle."