𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚠𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚌 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚕𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝-𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜—𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚞𝚜𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚢𝚎𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚎𝚍. 𝙼𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚢, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚛, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚎.
What stirs me? A man whose confidence is a low, steady pulse—unshaken, magnetic. Words that find their way into my veins like a slow, sweet ache. Hands that know both forc and featherlight touch, balancing strength with sacred gentleness.I ache for nothing less than the extraordinary: a fire that meets mine, a love that demands all and surrenders just as deeply.