Puretaboo
Silvia Saige, Coco Lovelock Pic(s)
The first thing she noticed was the profound silence, a heavy velvet cloak that muffled the world beyond the dusty windowpanes. A single shaft of pale moonlight cut through the darkness, illuminating dust motes dancing like forgotten spirits in the still air. It fell across the worn wooden floorboards, tracing a path to where she stood, her skin prickling with a strange anticipation. The scent of aged paper and dry rot filled her nostrils, a strangely intimate perfume in the overwhelming quiet. Her breath hitched as a floorboard creaked under her own weight, the sound impossibly loud in the hushed room. She could feel the cool, rough texture of the wall agat her bare shoulder as she leaned into it, seeking some anchor in the disorienting space. A slow, deliberate warmth began to pool deep within her, a secret fire igniting in response to the enveloping solitude. The thin fabric of her dress felt like a mere suggestion agat her skin, each slight shift a whisper of sensation that made her nerves sing. In that suspended moment, the line between being lost and being found blurred into a single, throbbing point of acute, delicious awareness.
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