The night was calm, painted with silver moonlight and the soft sound of the breeze moving through the curtains. Riya stood by the window, her hair flowing gently over her shoulders. The world outside was quiet — only the fant glow of the streetlights and the hum of the night surrounded her. He walked in slowly, watching her silhouette in the soft light. “You look beautiful,” he whispered, his voice deep and full of warmth. Riya turned, a shy smile playing on her lips. “You always say that,” she replied softly, but her eyes told a different story — a mix of affection and something deeper. Music played in the background — low, slow, and soothing. He walked closer, until he could feel her breath. His fingers brushed a strand of hair from her face. Neither of them spoke for a while; words would have broken the moment.
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