The evening stretched out slowly, the kind of night where the city outside seemed to blur into the background, almost nonexistent. Inside the apartment, the air was warm, filled with the soft hum of the fridge and the quiet ticking of the clock. The lamps cast a gentle, golden light, wrapping everything in a kind of peaceful cocoon.Claire sat on the couch, her legs tucked under a blanket, watching Vladimir move around the kitchen. The sound of him stirring a pot, the quiet clink of utensils against plates, was a comfort—a rhythm that had settled into their days.She admired the way he worked. There was something about the way his hands moved, fluid and confident, like he was completely in his element.He hummed softly to himself, a tune that felt familiar but not quite, a quiet sound that added to the peaceful atmosphere. It wasn’t the kind of music that filled the room with volume; it was the kind that quietly existed in the background, like the feeling of being at home.After a whi
Last Updated : 2025-02-22 Read more