Karups
Karups Pic(s)
The fading sunlight painted the room in hues of amber and deep violet, casting long, dancing shadows that seemed to move with the rhythm of their quiet breaths. He stood before her, his gaze a tangible warmth that she felt not just on her skin, but deep within her core. His fingers, when they finally bridged the small distance between them, traced the line of her jaw with a reverence that made her heart stutter. A soft sigh escaped her lips, not of words, but of pure feeling, as she leaned into his touch, her own hands finding the solid strength of his shoulders. The world outside their quiet sanctuary ceased to exist, every sound muffled by the thick, sweet tension in the air. He slowly drew her closer, until their foreheads gently met, and she could feel the frantic echo of his pulse matching her own. In that suspended moment, every glance was a confession and every slight movement a silent, burning question. The air grew heavy with the scent of night-blooming jasmine, a fragrant witness to the unspoken promises passing between them. She felt herself unraveling, not with force, but with a tender, aching slowness that left her utterly exposed yet completely safe. This was not a capture, but a mutual surrender, a silent symphony of two souls finding their way home in the quiet dark.
Comments
Post a Comment