Karups
Karups Pic(s)
The fading sun cast long, trembling shadows across the quiet room, gilding the dust motes that danced in the still air between us. His gaze was a tangible warmth, a silent question that made my breath catch in my throat. I watched the slow, deliberate curl of his fingers as he reached out, his knuckles just barely grazing the line of my jaw. A shiver, delicate and profound, traced the path his touch had taken, blooming into a flush of heat across my skin. The world narrowed to this single point of contact, to the unspoken language of his thumb stroking my cheekbone. My own hand rose to meet his, our fingers intertwining with a quiet certainty that felt like coming home. In the deep, stormy grey of his eyes, I saw not just desire, but a profound recognition, a mirror reflecting a version of myself I had forgotten. The air grew thick with the scent of rain-soaked earth and the faint, clean fragrance of his skin, a perfume that seeped into my very soul. Every guarded part of me softened under that patient, searching look, the walls around my heart crumbling into dust. This was not a capture, but a release, a long-held breath finally exhaled into the safety of his embrace.
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