Karups
Karups Pic(s)
The rain fell in soft, silver sheets against the windowpane, blurring the city lights into a watercolor dream. He stood by the fireplace, the warm glow painting his profile in hues of amber and gold, and when he turned, his gaze was a quiet storm that stilled the very air in my lungs. My heart was a frantic bird against my ribs as he stepped closer, his fingers gently tracing the line of my jaw with a reverence that made me tremble. A slow, knowing smile touched his lips as he leaned in, his breath a warm caress against my skin before he finally closed the distance. The kiss was not a demand, but a question, a tender exploration that tasted of shared secrets and unspoken promises. My hands found their way to his chest, feeling the steady, strong rhythm of his heart echoing my own chaotic beat. In that suspended moment, the world outside ceased to exist, leaving only the scent of his skin, the soft sound of our breathing, and the profound rightness of being held. Every nerve ending sang with a delicate, newfound awareness, a symphony of sensation that was both terrifying and exquisite. I melted into the solid warmth of his embrace, my head resting against his shoulder as his arms wrapped around me, a sanctuary from every storm. This was not a destination I had sought, but a beautiful, unexpected journey beginning with a single, perfect kiss in the quiet heart of the rain.
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