We didn’t plan it.
A chance meeting, chance conversations.
And then he said:
— Do you want to travel with me? No route. Just us and the road.
I nodded without thinking. Because there was that very thing in his voice—a promise of tenderness and adventure.
📍 Destination? It doesn’t matter. The main thing is with whom.
🚆 Day 1. Train.
He met me with coffee. And with a smile.
The compartment was ours. A small world on wheels.
At first we were silent, watching the landscapes change outside the window. Then we started talking—quietly, as if we were afraid to wake the train.
He listened to me attentively. So attentively that I wanted to tell him everything—even the things I usually hide.
And then...
He covered my hand with his. And between the stations we kissed.
Slowly. As if a whole life was ahead.
And as if we had just begun this fairy tale.
✈️ Day 2. Plane.
We boarded the plane.
- Where do you want to be tomorrow? - he asked, lazily scrolling through the map on his phone.
- In your arms, - I answered, smiling.
Height brings people together.
He held my hand during takeoff. I laid my head on his shoulder.
And when the whole plane fell asleep, he whispered in my ear:
- I never thought that a flight could be so... sweet.
I just smiled. Because his palm was already sliding along my waist.
And this plane probably forever absorbed our first whisper of passion.
🚢 Day 4. Ship.
Sea. Wind. Waves.
I was standing on the deck in his shirt. He came up from behind and hugged me.
“You’re like a lighthouse,” he said. “I could sail after you all my life.”
I laughed:
“And you’re like a storm. You burst in and destroy everything.”
We didn’t sleep at night.
We were cramped in the cabin — and incredibly hot from each other.
He kissed me as if he was afraid that dawn would separate us.
And it seemed to me that the sea was rocking not the ship, but us.
The rhythm of the waves matched our breathing…
💫 Day 6. Return?
“Where next?” I asked while he was lacing up his boots.
He looked at me, smiled and said:
“To where the road ends… and home begins. If you're near, I'm already there.
And that's when I understood.
Travel is not a map, not kilometers, not visas, and not suitcases.
Travel is when you're on the road with someone whose breath you remember more than the route itself.
It's kisses between transfers.
It's hugs under the stars.
It's one blanket for two in a compartment, one seat for two on a plane, one night for a lifetime.