Karups
Karups Pic(s)
The moon cast a silver path across the floor, leading my gaze to where Luna Rishi stood, a silhouette against the starlit window. Her name was a whisper on my lips as she turned, her dark eyes holding galaxies of unspoken longing. I crossed the room, the air humming with a tension as delicate as spun sugar, and my fingers found the gentle slope of her shoulder. A soft sigh escaped her as she leaned into my touch, her head tilting to rest against my chest where my heart hammered a frantic, hopeful rhythm. I could feel the warmth of her skin through the thin silk of her dress, a silent conversation of heat and promise. Her hands came up to cradle my face, her thumbs tracing the line of my jaw with an agonizing tenderness that stole my breath. Our foreheads met, and in that shared darkness, the world outside ceased to exist, leaving only the scent of her perfume and the quiet symphony of our breathing. Every nerve in my body was alive, singing with the proximity of her, with the electric charge of our almost-kiss. It was a moment suspended in time, a perfect, aching precipice where desire and devotion became one and the same. In the quiet embrace of the night, we were the only two souls left, forever beginning.
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