En Plural

Love here is not fireworks, but a cosy lamp in the kitchen that shines evenly and does not flicker. It's simple: keys on the shelf, plates for two, rock “n” roll mixed with the smell of dinner. Every ‘how are you?’ turns into a ritual of warmth, where even the city ceases to be a noisy backdrop and becomes something homely.

It's not about passion and drama, but about a quiet miracle - when there's a shoulder nearby, when you laugh at nonsense, when life suddenly turns out to be not a marathon, but a barefoot dance between the stove and the bed. And it is in this everyday life that everything is most real.