Karups
Karups Pic(s)
The rain traced delicate paths down the windowpane, a soft percussion against the glass that mirrored the frantic rhythm of my own heart. Her fingers, cool and tentative, found mine in the space between us, a silent question asked in the dim light. I turned my hand, our palms meeting like two halves of a long-lost secret finally connecting. A sigh escaped her lips, not of sorrow, but of profound relief, as if she had been holding her breath for a century. She leaned her forehead against mine, her eyes closed, and in that shared darkness, I felt the walls around her soul begin to tremble. The scent of her perfume, jasmine and rain-kissed skin, wove an intoxicating spell around us. Every slight tremble of her lower lip, every hesitant beat of her pulse beneath my thumb, was a new verse in her unspoken story. I could feel the weight of her hidden fears and silent hopes passing from her skin to mine, a sacred, wordless confession. In the quiet intimacy of that breath, the distance between two strangers dissolved into nothing. We were no longer separate, but a single, breathing entity, bound by the tender, aching truth of a connection finally understood.
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