Karups
Karups Pic(s)
The fading sun cast long, golden shadows across the quiet studio, each one a silent witness to the space between us. Her perfume, a faint whisper of jasmine and sea salt, seemed to hang in the still air, a delicate ghost I could almost taste. I watched the subtle shift of silk against her skin as she breathed, a slow, deliberate rhythm that echoed the frantic beat of my own heart. Her eyes, dark pools of quiet intensity, held mine for a moment that stretched into a small eternity. A single, stray curl brushed her temple, and my fingers ached with the memory of how it might feel to gently tuck it back. The world had narrowed to this single, charged point, where every unspoken word was a tangible weight in the room. She offered a small, knowing smile that sent a shiver straight through me, warming me from the inside out. I could feel the heat of her gaze tracing the line of my jaw, a phantom touch more real than any physical contact. This was a language of glances and held breaths, a conversation built on everything we dared not say aloud. In that suspended silence, I was utterly, beautifully undone.
Comments
Post a Comment