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I take in the vista. The colorful domes of the baroque-style buildings shine in the copper light of the sunset. Like a ball of gold, the sun hangs on the horizon. Above it, the sky is a fragile, delicate white, like the veil of a bride.
“A white night,” I say in awe.
He kisses the top of my head. “A midnight day.”
Turning in his embrace, I look up at the sharp angles of his face.
He chuckles. “The view is over there.”
“No.” I cup his cheek. “What I want to see is right here, in front of me.”
“Yes,” he says softly. “So it is. You. It’s always been you.”
When he lowers his head, I offer my lips, letting him kiss me under the midnight sun.
