Golupaa
The sky, which had been a placid blue all afternoon, suddenly darkened, releasing a sudden, insistent rain that drummed a frantic rhythm against the windowpane. Seeking shelter from the downpour, they found themselves alone in the dim, tiled silence of the washroom, the air thick with steam and unspoken longing. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a wild echo of the storm outside, as she finally met his gaze, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and desperate hope. He saw the silent question there, and his answer was a slow, tender hand reaching to brush a stray, damp curl from her cheek. A shiver, not from the cold, coursed through her at his touch, and she leaned into his palm, her own hand coming to rest over his beating heart. The world outside, with its rules and judgments, melted away, leaving only the scent of rain on skin and the electric space between their bodies. He drew her closer, his arms wrapping around her, and she melted into the embrace, her face buried in the familiar, safe scent of his shirt. In that hushed sanctuary, every whispered breath and trembling sigh became a secret language, a confession more profound than any words. Their foreheads touched, a silent promise passing between them as the rain continued its relentless song, washing everything else away. In that stolen moment, surrounded by steam and shadow, they found a universe complete within a single, breathless embrace.
Comments
Post a Comment