Byline of My Heart
Only intensity.
Only feeling.
We moved together slowly, deliberately. No tearing fabric. No rushed movements.
Just closeness. His hands traced my sides carefully, like he was afraid I’d disappear if he moved too fast. When we finally lay back against the bed, the world outside my apartment felt distant.
It was just us.
Skin warm against skin.
Breathing uneven.
His fingers brushed along my spine, sending shivers through me, not from shock, but from how gentle he was being.
“You’re not fragile,” he whispered.
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