Snefnug faldt blidt over København.

Snowflakes fell gently over København.

Gaderne var stille.

The streets were quiet.

Den travle by virkede bremset af det hvide tæppe.

The bustling city seemed slowed by the white blanket.

Inde i den hyggelige tebutik, "Den Lille Tesalon", var atmosfæren varm og indbydende.

Inside the cozy tea shop, "Den Lille Tesalon", the atmosphere was warm and inviting.

Duft af kanel og ingefær fyldte rummet.

The scent of cinnamon and ginger filled the room.

Små lys glimtede blandt juledekorationerne.

Small lights twinkled among the Christmas decorations.

Udenfor lå sneen tungt mod de store, frosne vinduer.

Outside, the snow lay heavy against the large, frozen windows.

Freja trådte forsigtigt ind i butikken.

Freja stepped cautiously into the shop.

Hendes kinder var røde af kulden.

Her cheeks were red from the cold.

Hun rystede sneen fra sit hår og spejdede rundt efter et ledigt bord.

She shook the snow from her hair and glanced around for an available table.

Hun ledte efter noget, en form for inspiration.

She was searching for something, a form of inspiration.

Hun havde et kunstprojekt om vinteren, men havde svært ved at fange storbyens skønhed midt i al kulden.

She had an art project about winter, but was struggling to capture the beauty of the city in the midst of all the cold.

Jens sad allerede ved et hjørnebord.

Jens was already sitting at a corner table.

Hans næse var dybt begravet i en bog om arkitekturens hemmeligheder.

His nose was deeply buried in a book about the secrets of architecture.

Det var lidt af en flugt fra hans verden af parametre og koder.

It was a bit of an escape from his world of parameters and codes.

Lydløst kiggede han op.

Silently, he looked up.

Freja fangede hans blik, men han så hurtigt tilbage til sine sider.

Freja caught his gaze, but he quickly glanced back to his pages.

Alligevel følte han en ukendt længsel, noget der krævede hans opmærksomhed uden for de tekniske tekster.

Yet he felt an unfamiliar longing, something requiring his attention beyond the technical texts.

Efter at have købt en dampende kop krydret chai satte Freja sig ned ved bordet ved siden af Jens.

After purchasing a steaming cup of spiced chai, Freja sat down at the table next to Jens.

Hendes øjne faldt mod hans bog.

Her eyes fell on his book.

"Arkitektur.

"Architecture...

jeg troede, det var en tør disciplin," bemærkede hun med et lille smil og prøvede at bryde isen.

I thought it was a dry discipline," she remarked with a small smile, trying to break the ice.

Jens så op, overrasket over bemærkningen.

Jens looked up, surprised by the comment.

"Måske kan det virke sådan," indrømmede han.

"Maybe it seems that way," he admitted.

"Men det handler også om skønhed og struktur.

"But it's also about beauty and structure.

Ligesom kunst.

Just like art."

""Ah," sagde Freja, og hendes øjne lyste op.

"Ah," said Freja, her eyes lighting up.

"Jeg prøver at finde vintertemaet i København til min kunst.

"I'm trying to find the winter theme in København for my art.

Men det har været en kamp.

But it's been a struggle."

"Samtalen begyndte tøvende, men nåede hurtigt dybde.

The conversation began hesitantly but quickly reached depth.

De diskuterede, hvordan linjer og mønstre kunne fortælle historier.

They discussed how lines and patterns could tell stories.

Hvordan byen var som et lærred, både for kunst og teknik.

How the city was like a canvas, both for art and technique.

Jens fandt pludselig ordene, han normalt holdt tilbage, rullede ud, og Freja blev fanget af hans synspunkter.

Jens suddenly found the words he usually held back rolling out, and Freja was captivated by his viewpoints.

Hun så nu bygninger som figurer i en dans.

She now saw buildings as figures in a dance.

En ny vision for hendes projekt tog form.

A new vision for her project took shape.

Snefnugenes fald tyndede ud.

The snowflakes' descent thinned out.

Uden at bemærke tiden, var der gået timer.

Without noticing the time, hours had passed.

Folk begyndte at bevæge sig ud igen.

People began to move outside again.

Te menukortet var nu det eneste, der dækkede bordets ellers tomme flader.

The tea menu was now the only thing covering the otherwise empty table surfaces.

Freja og Jens lod ikke denne magiske forbindelse slippe.

Freja and Jens didn't let this magical connection slip.

De udvekslede numre og lovede hinanden at mødes igen.

They exchanged numbers and promised to meet again.

Da Freja forlod tebutikken, føltes vinteren ikke helt så kold.

As Freja left the tea shop, winter didn't feel quite so cold.

Hendes skridt gennem sneen var lettere, hendes mål blev klarere.

Her steps through the snow were lighter, her goals clearer.

Jens gik sin vej med en ny forståelse.

Jens walked away with a new understanding.

Ikke alt kunne måles eller vejes.

Not everything could be measured or weighed.

Nogle gange krævedes det forbindelse for at skabe mening, selv for ham.

Sometimes, connection was needed to create meaning, even for him.

Himlen begyndte at klare op, mens de gik hver til sit.

The sky began to clear up as they went their separate ways.

Under snefnug og lys reflektioner, var en ny rejse begyndt for dem begge i denne lille tesalon i København.

Under the snowflakes and reflections of light, a new journey had begun for both of them in this little tea salon in København.