Karups
Karups Pic(s)
The rain traced silver paths down the windowpane, blurring the city lights into a soft, golden haze as he finally closed the distance between them. His thumb, calloused and gentle, swept a stray tear from her cheek, his touch a question she answered by leaning into his palm. A shiver, not from the cold, danced along her spine when his other hand settled on the small of her back, a warm and steady anchor in the storm. She could feel the frantic rhythm of his heart echoing her own, a wild, syncopated drumbeat against her chest as he drew her closer. The scent of his skin, a mix of old books and the night air, filled her senses, becoming the only fragrance in the world. Her fingers, trembling slightly, found their way into his hair, pulling him down until his forehead rested against hers in a silent confession. The world outside ceased to exist, the only sound the soft hitch of her breath and the quiet promise in his. His lips found hers not with hunger, but with a reverence that unraveled every tightly wound secret she had ever kept. It was a slow, melting surrender, a feeling of coming home to a place she never knew she belonged. In that endless, breathless kiss, she felt not just wanted, but utterly, completely known.
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