~ CASPIAN ~
Callan is the one driving.
I'm sitting quietly beside him, watching the trees flashing past us. The road is quiet, the birds are chirping, and the sky is painted with soft oranges and deep purples, also glowing shades of gold with the sun starting to sink behind the hills.
Nature will always have its magical beauty that can never be compared to anything else.
We arrive at Callan's home just as the last streaks of sunlight vanish from the porch steps, welcoming the night. We park in front of the house and step out of the car.
Reaching the porch steps, the scent of dinner hits me, wafting through the open windows—spices, veggies, roasted lamb, and melted cheese.
The scent smells so f*****g good I feel like I'm already devouring the warm, tasty meal. It smells like home.
Ju
