ManoJob
Manojob Pic(s)
The last chime of midnight still hummed in the air as Penny turned to me, her eyes holding the soft, untamed glow of the moon through the windowpane. Her fingers, trembling slightly, found mine, and a silent understanding passed between us, warmer than any spoken word. I could feel the delicate pulse at her wrist quicken against my palm, a frantic, beautiful rhythm that mirrored my own runaway heart. She leaned in, her breath a soft sigh against my cheek, carrying the faint, sweet scent of night-blooming jasmine from the garden below. The world narrowed to this single, breathless point where the rustle of her dress was the only sound and the warmth of her shoulder beneath my hand was my only anchor. A single, stray curl brushed against my temple, as light as a whisper and as electric as a lightning strike. In that endless moment, every fear and doubt I had ever carried simply melted away, leaving only a profound, aching tenderness in its wake. Her lips met mine in a kiss that was not a demand, but a question, and my soul whispered its fervent, eternal answer. We were no longer two separate beings, but a single, shared breath in the quiet dark, a secret kept by the sleeping city. And as I finally drew back, seeing the stars reflected in her teary, joyful gaze, I knew our story had only just begun to be written.
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