Karups
Karups Pic(s)
The late afternoon sun bled honey-gold through the grand windows, catching in the halo of her loose hair as she turned. A current, silent and potent, pulled our gazes together across the room, and the air itself seemed to thicken with unspoken words. Her lips curved into a slow, knowing smile that sent a tremor straight through my core, a silent promise that made my breath catch. She moved then, a fluid, graceful approach that felt both like a dream and the most real moment of my life. When her fingers finally brushed against mine, the touch was a spark, a jolt of pure, undiluted feeling that traveled up my arm. I could feel the delicate warmth of her palm as it pressed against mine, our fingers instinctively lacing together in a perfect, desperate fit. The scent of her perfume, something like night-blooming jasmine and warm skin, wrapped around me, an intoxicating veil that made the world outside this room vanish. Her eyes, dark and luminous, held mine, and in their depths I saw a reflection of my own dizzying longing and tender awe. Leaning in, her forehead gently rested against mine, our shared breaths mingling in the small, sacred space between us. In that suspended silence, I felt not just wanted, but truly seen, as if she had unlocked a secret chamber of my soul I never knew existed.
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