There are evenings when the world is loud, and my soul asks for silence... And then there are those I dream about - where I am with a man who feels without words. My ideal evening is not about pathos or movie scenes. It's about simple things that warm you deeper than a blanket. Imagine: {name} and I are coming home after a busy day. It's already dusk outside, and the street lamps are shining softly. There is the scent of cinnamon in the air, a little wine in the glass, and music in the background... The kind that penetrates right into your inner world. I'm wearing the shirt you just lent me and a wicker blanket. We are sitting next to each other on the couch - not in a hurry, not fussing, just enjoying the moment. We talk or don't talk - it's still good. I look at you, smiling a little, and think how great it is that you are here. And I would cook something delicious - something you love. And we would eat dinner slowly, as if we were savoring each other, not the food. I like to touch the person I care about with my hands, so your hand would be in mine, not somewhere on the table, and then... just a hug. No plans, no chasing. Only soft light, the silence of the city outside the window, and I'm in you. My perfect evening is when I don't want the night to end. Because it contains warmth, desire, and someone who appreciates... not moments, but you.