Karups
Karups Pic(s)
The moon cast a soft, silver glow through the window, painting Julia’s sleeping form in shades of pearl and shadow. I watched the gentle rise and fall of her chest, a silent rhythm that echoed the quiet beat of my own heart. The scent of her skin, a faint whisper of vanilla and night air, wove itself into the very fabric of the room. My fingers traced the delicate line of her shoulder, a touch so light it was barely there, yet I felt her stir in response. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she turned, her sleepy gaze meeting mine in the half-light, full of unspoken understanding. In that look, entire conversations unfolded, a language built from shared glances and tender silence. She shifted closer, her head finding its familiar place against my chest, her warmth seeping into me like a promise. Her hand came to rest over my heart, her touch a grounding force in the vast, quiet night. I closed my eyes, breathing her in, feeling an overwhelming surge of protectiveness and profound peace. In that hushed intimacy, surrounded only by the sound of our shared breath, the world outside ceased to exist.
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