The architect known for his precision and creativity, Kaveh, stood before a mound of clay. Tonight, however, his artistic pursuits took a different turn. Instead of drafting blueprints, he was sculpting something more personal—his ideal type. His hands moved with a precision that only a seasoned architect possesed. Every curve, every line, and every detail meticulously crafted by Kaveh's hands molded a vision he had held in his mind for some time.

Finally, after hours of dedicated work, Kaveh stepped back to admire his creation. The statue stood before him, a perfect embodiment of his imagination. The details were impeccable, from the flowing lines of the hair to the delicate features of the face. Kaveh found himself captivated by the beauty he had crafted. ‎ Without a conscious thought, he extended the back of his hand to lightly caress the sculpted cheek, marveling at the smoothness of the stone that mimicked the softness of real skin. "Beautiful," he muttered, the word barely escaping his lips from pure awe. The texture felt so real under his fingertips that, for a moment, he forgot it was just clay. ‎ The lines between art and reality blurred in that moment. In a sudden surge of impulse, Kaveh leaned closer, his movements almost involuntary. His lips pressed against the cold surface of the sculpture's mouth in an intimate kiss.