Karups
Karups Pic(s)
The golden afternoon light spilled through the window, catching the dust motes dancing in the air like tiny, suspended stars. He stood across the room, his gaze a tangible warmth that seemed to slow the very spin of the world. I watched the steady rise and fall of his chest, a silent rhythm that my own breath soon began to mirror. When his fingers finally brushed against mine, a shiver traced its way up my arm, settling as a flush across my skin. He leaned in, his forehead gently resting against mine, and in that shared silence, I felt a universe of unspoken words pass between us. His hand cradled the curve of my jaw, his thumb stroking my cheek with a reverence that made my heart ache. The scent of his skin, clean and faintly of sandalwood, filled my senses, becoming the only air I wished to breathe. I closed my eyes, lost in the profound tenderness of his nearness, feeling both fragile and unbreakable in his hold. A soft sigh escaped my lips, not of surrender, but of a long-awaited homecoming to a place I never knew I belonged. In that suspended moment, every whisper of touch was a promise, and every look a delicate, unbreakable thread binding our souls together.
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