Pigtailed Lollipop
Pigtailed Lollipop
The afternoon sun cast long, golden shadows across her bedroom, illuminating dust motes that danced like shy fairies. She arranged her plush menagerie with deliberate care, each stuffed creature a silent witness to this unspoken moment. Her fingers, usually so quick and certain, now moved with a new, languid grace as she adjusted a velvet bunny’s ear. A soft sigh escaped her lips, a sound that seemed to hang in the air between us, charged with a meaning we dared not voice. I watched the delicate curve of her neck as she bent forward, the light catching the fine hairs at her nape. The air grew thick with the scent of her perfume and the quiet weight of our shared silence. My own heartbeat was a frantic drum against my ribs, a rhythm answering some silent call I felt radiating from her. A slight, knowing smile touched her lips as she glanced my way, her eyes holding a universe of unasked questions. In that suspended breath, the line between innocent display and profound invitation blurred into unbearable sweetness. The world narrowed to this sun-drenched room, to the space between her outstretched hand and my aching heart.
Comments
Post a Comment