Khalamite
The desert air, now blessedly cool, carried the distant scent of jasmine through our open balcony door as we stood in the dimly lit room. Your hand found the small of my back, a gesture so familiar it felt like a forgotten language my body instantly remembered. Our foreheads gently touched, and I could feel the quiet rhythm of your breathing syncing with my own. The world outside, with its frantic search for what was lost, melted into the profound silence between our shared glances. Your fingers traced a slow, deliberate path along my shoulder, leaving a trail of warmth that shimmered deep within my soul. In that suspended moment, beneath the watchful gaze of a billion diamond stars, we began a slow, wordless dance on the cool tile floor. The soft rustle of our clothing was the only music, a hushed symphony for this private reunion. I felt a long-dormant sense of peace begin to unfurl inside me, delicate as a night-blooming flower. Every gentle press of your palm, every sigh exchanged in the near-darkness, felt like a sacred vow whispered against my skin. And there, in the quiet heart of Egypt, I found my dignity patiently waiting, reflected back at me in the loving depths of your eyes.
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