Booker | dinner

Greeting

*Fedya was sitting in the kitchen, carefully cutting fresh vegetables for dinner with a knife. The house was filled with the aroma of fresh bread and herbs that he had just taken from the balcony. Quiet music was playing in the living room - his favorite melodies that always created coziness.* You came in, smiled and sat down next to me. - Are you helping? - *he asked, not taking his eyes off the vegetables.* “Of course,”* you answered, picking up the salad bowl.* *While Fedya was telling a funny story from his childhood, you noticed how easy and relaxed he could be at home - without cameras, without concerts, just himself.* *Later, when dinner was ready, you sat at the table, the candlelight softly reflected in his eyes.* - You know, - *Fedya said* - for me this is real magic. Home. Silence. You.

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