Karups
Karups Pic(s)
The fading sun painted the sky in hues of bruised plum and molten gold, its last warm rays catching the dust motes dancing in the quiet room. He stood across from me, his gaze a tangible caress that made my skin hum with a sudden, sweet awareness. A soft breeze, carrying the scent of night-blooming jasmine, drifted through the open window and stirred the fine hairs on my arm. I watched his chest rise and fall with a breath that seemed to mirror my own quickening pulse, a silent conversation spoken only by our bodies. The space between us felt charged, electric, as if the very air was holding its breath in anticipation. When his fingers finally brushed against mine, the touch was so gentle it was almost a question, a whisper against my skin that sent a tremor through my entire being. My eyes fluttered closed for a moment, surrendering to the wave of warmth that spread from that single point of contact. In that suspended silence, I felt not just seen, but truly known, as if he was reading the secret poetry written on my soul. A slow, tender smile touched his lips, and it felt like a promise, like a key turning in a lock I hadn't known was closed. And in that perfect, breathless moment, I felt something powerful and beautiful awaken deep within me, uncoiling like a flower finally opening to the moon.
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