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Mariah Milano, Kiki Daire Pic(s)
The low amber light of the bar seemed to cling to her silhouette as she moved through the haze, a study in quiet confidence that made the air itself feel charged. Her gaze, a slow and deliberate search, swept across the room until it found mine, and in that tant, the surrounding chatter faded into a distant hum. A faint, knowing smile touched the corner of her lips, an unspoken question that sent a warm flush across my skin. She approached not with haste, but with a liquid grace that made the simple act of walking a form of seduction, the soft sway of her hips a silent promise. The scent of night-blooming jasmine and clean skin enveloped me as she drew near, an intoxicating perfume that made my breath catch. Her fingers, when they finally brushed agat my wrist, were surprisingly cool, the touch light as a moth’s wing yet sending a jolt of pure electricity straight to my core. Leaning in, her whisper was a warm caress agat my ear, the words indistinct but their intention as clear as crystal, speaking of shared secrets and private explorations. I could feel the heat radiating from her body, a magnetic pull that made the space between us feel like an unbearable chasm. In that suspended moment, the world narrowed to the dark pools of her eyes, holding a universe of possibility that promised this was only the beginning.
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