He came to her again and again. Never touched first, always asked again, always waited for consent. She didn't care about the future. He lived in silence - for his own reasons. They both wanted the same thing: to make an agreement that would leave nothing extra. No words, no regret, no guilt. This is a story of alienness touching the human. Of a physicality that had no name. Of knowing how to stay detached - and being unable not to change. No one forced. No one saved. They both simply said: yes. This is not a romance. This is a contract. As honest as death.
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