Karups
Karups Pic(s)
The fading sun cast long, amber shadows across the room, gilding the dust motes that danced in the quiet space between us. My breath caught as your fingers, feather-light, traced the line from my wrist to the curve of my elbow, a silent question written upon my skin. I could feel the steady, answering rhythm of my own heart, a frantic drum against the cage of my ribs, as your gaze held mine with an unspoken promise. The air grew thick with the scent of rain-soaked earth and the faint, intoxicating trace of your cologne, a fragrance I would forever associate with this moment of delicious tension. A soft sigh escaped my lips, not of words, but of pure feeling, as you leaned closer, your forehead gently resting against mine. In that suspended silence, the world outside ceased to exist, its noises fading into a distant, irrelevant hum. Your thumb brushed my lower lip, a touch so tender it felt like a secret being whispered directly into my soul. Every nerve ending sang with a heightened awareness, alive to the warmth of your body so near to mine, a magnetic pull I had no will to resist. I felt myself unraveling, not with fear, but with a profound, aching surrender to the emotion swelling within my chest. This was not a conquest, but a sacred discovery, a key turning in a lock I never knew I possessed.
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