Tonight

Nobody asked for it

The cards for one evening, turned over from what you have both already said yes to. No one had to bring it up, so no one can be turned down.

Two cream dice on a dark kitchen counter at night, one carved with acts, the other with rooms, a single red pip on the place die.
The dice you pick
The room, the act, who finishes, how it ends. You choose which ones to roll. You do not choose where they stop. Neither of you has to be the person who suggested anything.
Pre-cleared
A face only exists if you both said yes or curious, neither of you marked it not for me, and it sits inside the intensity you have already reached together. A hard no is not in the deck at all.
Two draws, then the evening is what it is
The second replaces the first. There is no third. Spinning until you like the answer is asking out loud with extra steps, and asking out loud is the thing that was hard.
It arrives already written
A draw is not composed while you wait. The card is there when you turn it over, which is why it works on a Tuesday when neither of you planned anything.

The kitchen, once the house is quiet

The cards name the evening, then stop

It does not explain itself. It does not ask how the evening went, score either of you, or add the night to a total. When the card is spent, it is spent.

Rumpled pale bedsheets in deep shadow with a single red thread running through one fold.

The draw is not chance

Every face was cleared by both of you months or minutes ago, in private. What the draw removes is authorship, not the possibility of a no. You can still say not tonight, and it costs nothing, because nobody put their name on the suggestion.