Karups
Karups Pic(s)
The city slept under a velvet sky, its distant lights like scattered diamonds, while in our quiet room, the only sound was the soft cadence of our shared breath. He stood by the window, a silhouette against the night, and turned, his gaze a physical warmth that traveled across my skin. I moved toward him, drawn by an invisible thread, my hand finding the solid plane of his chest, feeling the frantic rhythm beneath my palm that echoed my own. His fingers, when they traced the line of my jaw, were a whisper, a question I answered by leaning into his touch. Our foreheads met, a tender collision of two separate worlds deciding to become one, and I could taste the sweetness of his sigh on my lips. The air grew thick with the scent of rain and his skin, a heady perfume that made my head spin with a delirious joy. In his arms, the world fell away, leaving only the map of his spine beneath my searching hands and the soft murmur of my name in his voice. Every point of contact was a small, bright star igniting across the darkness of my closed eyelids, a constellation of pure feeling. This was not a capture, but a surrender, a slow, deliberate unraveling of every defense I had ever built. And in that suspended moment, before our lips finally met, I knew I was already completely, irrevocably lost.
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