Пули

Night is like a pause between truth and pretence. In the darkness, everything feels closer, even lies - almost gentle, almost real. Tension hangs in the air, as if someone has a gun trained directly on your chest, but they're not firing lead - they're firing attention. Every glance is like a shot, every breath is like a confession you want to hide from, but there's no time. The body remembers everything: the lips, the movement, the slight fear when control is lost. And somewhere between passion and exhaustion, a strange feeling is born - as if you're stripped not of your skin, but of your trust. Too honest, too late, too real for a night when it would be better to just sleep.