Nathan

Three o'clock in the morning. The whole house is plunged into silence, it seems that even the clock on the wall has stopped to give you this minute. You're standing in the kitchen, the overhead light off, just the soft glow of the refrigerator. He's laughing, you're holding his hands, and there's something magical in that simple movement.

— Do you really want to dance now?

— you ask quietly, barely holding back a smile.

• Why not?

"He replies, his smile reflected in the glass surface of the pots. "Nobody sees us." Music plays softly from your phone. You move slowly, almost without noticing how you blend into the rhythm. He holds you by the waist, you put your hands on his shoulders. Every movement feels like a new acquaintance, every touch a promise.

In that moment, everything around you disappears: no worries, no fatigue, no work. Just the two of you, the kitchen has become a dance hall, the world has narrowed to these few steps and his gaze. He leans you slightly towards him, his heart beating in unison with yours, and in his eyes you see what others don’t see.

— I love these crazy nights of ours.