Published: September 22nd 2025, 8:00:33 am
The evening drags on slowly, like melted honey... I sit on the windowsill and feel my skin grow slightly cold from the draft, while inside everything burns.
The thin rays of the sunset glide over my body, and I imagine how your palms could repeat their path — gently, carefully, as if afraid of destroying the moment.
I love this feeling: when there is silence around us, and between us there is only a slight tension and the promise of something sweet.
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