Karups
Karups Pic(s)
The fading sun cast long, trembling shadows across the room, gilding the dust motes that danced in the heavy, warm air. His gaze was a tangible weight, a soft pressure that made her skin hum with a silent, thrilling music. She watched the slow, deliberate path of his fingers as they traced the curve of her shoulder, a touch so light it was almost a memory, yet it burned a path straight to her core. A shuddering breath escaped her lips, her own hands finding the solid warmth of his back, learning the landscape of muscle and spine. The world had shrunk to this single, suspended moment, to the whisper of cotton against skin as they shifted closer. His forehead gently rested against hers, their shared breath a warm, intimate tide between them. In the quiet, she could hear the frantic, hopeful rhythm of his heart echoing her own, a wild drumbeat against the stillness. Every nerve ending felt alive, singing with a desperate, beautiful ache that was both torment and bliss. The air itself seemed thick with unspoken words, with promises that trembled on the edge of being fulfilled. This was a freefall into feeling, a surrender to a longing so profound it felt like coming home.
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