Danner Mendez
The fire had dwindled to embers, casting a soft, amber glow across the room where we sat, the silence between us thick with unspoken history. I watched the way the low light caressed the curve of Iriannis’s smile as she spoke, her laughter a familiar melody that stirred something deep within my chest. Our conversation, a gentle stream of shared memories, slowly turned into a current, pulling us closer on the soft rug. Her eyes, dark pools of reflected firelight, held mine with an intensity that made my breath catch in my throat. My fingers, almost of their own accord, traced a hesitant path along her arm, feeling a shiver ripple through her in response. She leaned into the touch, her head tilting back, exposing the graceful line of her neck as a soft sigh escaped her lips. The air itself seemed to hum with a forbidden electricity, every whispered confession and lingering glance fueling a fire we had long suppressed. I could feel the frantic rhythm of her heart answering the wild drumming in my own chest as I closed the final, breathless inch between us. Our lips met not with urgency, but with a slow, aching tenderness that tasted of longing and sweet wine. In that suspended midnight hour, the world fell away, leaving only the language of our entwined bodies speaking a truth we dared not voice.
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