Karups
Karups Pic(s)
The fading sun cast long, trembling shadows across the room, gilding the dust motes that danced between us like tiny, captured stars. His gaze was a physical warmth, a slow, melting heat that started deep in my chest and spread outward, weakening my knees. I felt the whisper of his breath on my skin before his hand ever touched my cheek, a ghost of a promise that made my heart stammer against my ribs. His fingers traced the line of my jaw with a reverence that felt like a silent prayer, each touch a new verse in a poem I had waited my whole life to hear. The world outside the window ceased to exist, its sounds muffled by the thick, honeyed air of this sacred space we had created. A soft sigh escaped my lips, not of surrender, but of arrival, as if I had finally come home after a long and weary journey. He leaned his forehead against mine, our shared breath a quiet rhythm in the deepening twilight, a secret language only we understood. In that suspended moment, every fear and doubt dissolved, replaced by a profound and aching tenderness that threatened to overflow. The scent of his skin, of warm cotton and the evening air, wove itself into my very being, an intoxicating perfume I knew I would forever crave. This was more than a kiss; it was an unraveling, a gentle unleashing of every guarded hope and hidden dream I had ever carried silently within me.
Comments
Post a Comment