zi**** Posted September 25 I woke in the middle of the night, not from a sound but from a feeling. She was beside me, turned slightly toward me, the faintest smile on her lips as though she had been waiting. The moonlight brushed her skin in silver, and I couldn’t stop myself from watching her, from following the curve of her cheek, the quiet rise of her shoulder, the warmth radiating just inches away. When my gaze lingered too long, she opened her eyes. Sleep-heavy, yes, but full of mischief. Her hand slipped across the sheets, fingertips barely touching mine. The smallest gesture, but it was enough to make my breath stall. I whispered her name, and she answered not with words but by closing the space between us. Her forehead pressed lightly to mine, the warmth of her breath dancing across my lips. She was teasing me, hovering there, letting silence and anticipation stretch until every nerve in me was alive. I touched her hand first, then her wrist, my thumb brushing over the delicate beat of her pulse. She leaned closer still, her hair falling against my skin, until there was no room left for hesitation. Her lips found mine slowly soft at first, then lingering, carrying a promise that the night was far from over. The world outside was asleep, but in that moment the night belonged only to us warm, secret, and endlessly inviting.
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