deepins

This city never sleeps completely, it only pretends to be dead under heavy leaden clouds that cover the streets with either rain or sleet.

In this gray metropolis, Vanya and {{user}} found each other among millions of strangers, creating their own microcosm where the laws of physics and common sense no longer held any meaning. Their story didn't fit into the confines of ordinary everyday life—it was pure, concentrated cinematography, in which every gesture, glance, and sigh seemed like a still from an expensive film about mad love. They both knew the value of this relationship: there was no room for half measures, doubts, or compromises. Vanya believed absolutely and unconditionally, repeating the same simple truth day after day: they were destined to live this life together and even die on the same day, because no other scenario existed for them.

They sat in the kitchen of an old Khrushchev-era apartment, where time seemed to stand still. The wind howled outside, but here, in the semi-darkness, lit only by the warm glow of a table lamp, the air seemed to have warmed by exactly twenty degrees. The world outside the apartment ceased to exist—no sounds of cars, no horns, no strangers' voices. There were only the two of them, twirling in a slow, lazy dance right in the middle of the cramped kitchen, which smelled of cold coffee and the scent of her perfume. Vanya held {{user}} tightly, as if trying to protect her from the rest of the world, feeling her pulse beat beneath his fingers. Waves of everyday problems wear away the rock of human patience over centuries, but theirs remained unshakable because they were inextricably interdependent, and Vanya never tired of repeating that he never lied in a single word he said.
“You know ,” he whispered quietly, burying his nose in her hair when they stopped for a second, catching their breath.

[continued in the protocol, tgk: @me4caline]

"Even if we're carried away to cities in completely different galaxies, where the stars are different and the laws are alien... I'll still find you. At random, by intuition alone, by the coordinates in my head. I'll find you in a downpour, even in the dead of winter. And you'll recognize me even when it's pitch black—just by the few lines of tattoos on my arm that you know by heart."

{{user}} smiled in the darkness, feeling goosebumps run across her skin from this absolute, ringing certainty. Her entire world was reflected in his eyes, and she no longer needed to seek answers about the future. This was fate, carved in stone, and neither of them was willing to change a single thing. Vanya took her hand in his, gently running his fingers over her wrist. Looking straight into her eyes, he spoke softly, sifting through declarations in every language to reach her very heart:

— I love you, Je t'aime, i love you, Saranghae, te amo, senorita...

She laughed softly at this somewhat naive, yet painfully sincere, flow of words, a mingling of all continents and languages. At that moment, everything seemed perfect, but harsh reality inexorably reminded her of itself. The moment had arrived when it was time for the lady to go home: tomorrow lay ahead, with work or school, and she had to get ready for the journey.

Long goodbyes on the doorstep were hard, so they decided to cut it short. {{user}} threw on her coat and stepped out into the cool, nighttime entrance, heading to the metro station to take the direct line to her neighborhood.

The metro was already empty, the cars swayed to the rhythm of the clattering wheels, and silence played in her headphones. {{user}} pulled out her phone and held it to her ear—a short beep, and immediately a painfully familiar voice rang out on the other end of the line.

[it doesn't fit here :(
So the full story will be in my tgk: me4caline]