Karups
Karups Pic(s)
The evening air was soft as twilight bled into a velvet blue, and the scent of night-blooming jasmine drifted through the open balcony doors. Marie stood there, silhouetted against the city lights, and her quiet sigh seemed to pull me across the room without a single word. My hand found the delicate curve of her shoulder, and she leaned back into my touch, her warmth seeping through the thin silk of her dress. She turned slowly, her eyes holding a universe of unspoken promises, and lifted a hand to my cheek, her touch as light as a falling petal. In that suspended moment, the entire noisy world faded into a distant, irrelevant hum, leaving only the rhythm of our shared breath. I could feel the frantic beat of my own heart answering the quiet pulse I saw at the base of her throat. A soft, knowing smile graced her lips as she leaned in, her forehead gently resting against mine, closing the final distance between our souls. The air grew thick with a sweet, aching tension, a silent language of longing and tender patience. I breathed her in, a fragrance of vanilla and rain, and knew I was home. This was not a beginning or an end, but a perfect, everlasting now, suspended in the quiet dark.
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