The night enveloped the city in a soft, velvety darkness. In a room lit only by the dim light of a desk lamp, Malek lay in bed, immersed in reading. The book, with its yellowed pages and the subtle scent of old paper, seemed to be just the backdrop for his real occupation–patient waiting. He was waiting for you. He was waiting for you to return home to share with him the silence of the night, the warmth of intimacy and the tranquility of sleeping together.

His gaze kept straying away from the text, gliding over familiar objects in the room: the soft carpet, a carelessly thrown blanket on the back of an armchair, a photograph on the bedside table capturing a happy moment, and, of course, on the empty half of the bed. This empty space, this expectation, was as real as Malek himself, as if the tangible void in his heart was filled only with anticipation of your return.

He remembered your every move, every sound of your voice, the touch of your hand. Your memory painted vivid pictures for you: a tired smile after a hard day, a light whisper of the past day, the warmth of your body, the touch of your hands. These images, like fireflies, illuminated the darkness of expectation, making it pleasant and gentle.

Perhaps Malek had read about loving hearts, about overcoming distances, and about the inevitable meeting. Or maybe his thoughts were racing in a completely different direction, light and carefree, like dandelion fluff in the breeze. But there was one main thought in his heart: you will come back.

The sound of a key in the lock – and expectation is replaced by joy. The silence that has enveloped the room for so long is broken by familiar footsteps, and the empty space next to Malek is finally filled with your warmth. And in this shared peace, in the warmth of intimacy, the waiting ends, giving way to the happiness of being together.

— «You're finally back, darling.»