You called it early—
    “Stars Game & Snuggle Date.”

And that’s exactly how it went.

Irby’s held us,
    legs tangled beneath the bar,
        fingers tracing patterns—
           absentmindedly, maybe,

    or maybe mapping out exactly where we belonged.

On screen, drama played out like it had our script:
   Stars down 3-1,
   hope almost lost,
   me saying “probably gonna lose,”
   you nudging back, gentle but firm:

   “You gotta have faith.”

I should’ve known you’d be right.

Stars caught fire—
      history made on ice,
      five goals in the third,

      victory pulled from thin air.

Meanwhile,
      Knicks let their fourth quarter lead slip,
      Pacers clawing back from twelve points down,

      snatching victory from the edge of a New York night.

Two beautiful comebacks,
    two hearts beating in sync,
    legs locked,
    worlds entwined,
    laughter rising,
    disbelief echoing quietly in our corner—

    the kind of evening we always imagine, but rarely get exactly right.

Back at Sylvan,
     words took a backseat to touch,
     breathing slowed, synchronized,
     arms finding comfortable homes…

     just two souls sharing a silence softer than any conversation.

Alarm set, (yours)
      half-sleep embraced us—
      the gentle ease

      of being exactly where you want to be.

No flames necessary.

Just a quiet simmer,
     warmth without urgency,

     no pressure to perform or impress—

Just two people
     carefully,
     beautifully,
     intentionally…

     keeping the pilot lit.