Meri Mouse
The grand ballroom hummed with distant, anticipatory chatter, but here in the quiet antechamber, the world had shrunk to just the two of us. His hand, warm and steady, found the small of my back, a simple touch that sent a silent tremor through my entire being. I leaned into the solid comfort of his chest, my cheek resting against the fine wool of his jacket, breathing in his familiar, soothing scent. My eyes fluttered closed as his thumb began to trace slow, deliberate circles over the delicate fabric of my dress. Each rotation was a whispered promise, a gentle claim that made my breath catch in a soft, shaky sigh. The cool air of the room contrasted beautifully with the warmth spreading from his touch, a private sun blooming just for me. In that suspended moment, every worry about the coming evening simply melted away, forgotten under the weight of his tender attention. I could feel the steady, strong rhythm of his heart against my palm, a silent drumbeat answering the frantic flutter of my own. This was our secret, a stolen fragment of peace woven from silence and a single, profound point of contact. It was a perfect, wordless confession that filled me with a profound and dizzying gratitude for his unwavering support.
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