The best part of the evening is the twilight, when the sun hangs on into the night longer than it should, stretching into the velvety tones of eventide with all the tenacity of that one party guest who won’t leave your house and it’s going on 4 AM. That one person who lounges on your couch longer than anyone else, looking sexy and quiet, speaking softly. He wants to inhabit your space, to allow your noir tones to darken his sunshine. That party guest, he’s not drunk. He’s not too tired to leave. He’s not lethargic or desperate. He’s there to mix with you, to bring a little exotic beauty to stale night and placid sun. That’s twilight right there.