RosseHot69

꧁༒☬Rosse Channel☬༒꧂

I am Rose, I am very in love, I love romantic dinners, being able to have a moment together with wine candles and a romantic time enjoying together, I love trips to places with lots of nature, I love wine, sweet especially chocolate, love being able to discover new stories, each person is unique, I love to has a great love story to tell and I hope to be there to hear it, I am characterized by listening and talking a lot, I love to be a romantic I want you to be part of that

¡Get to know me and discover more about me!

❤️My romantic fantasies ❤️

It had been years since you last saw him. Sometimes you thought time would erase his name, or at least the way your chest beat when you remembered him. but not. A single message asking if you would be in town was enough for everything to come back: the anxiety, the illusion, that sweet and painful mixture of what could never be. The reunion was in a small cafe, one of those that seem suspended in time. When you opened the door, you saw him before he saw you. He still had the same way of leaning forward when he thought, the same gentle gestures with his hands. And when he looked up, when his eyes collided with yours, it was like all the noise around dissolved. —I can’t believe you’re here,” he said, standing up.. His voice had that warmth that always disarmed you. He approached and hugged you, hesitating for a second, as if asking permission without words. You sank into his chest an instant longer than it belonged between old friends. He too. They talked for hours. Of what they had lived, of what they had lost, of what each one had kept silent. And between one story and another, there were those dense, almost electric silences, where neither of us looked away.. When they left, the evening was warm and the sun was falling slowly. He accompanied you to your car, although it was not necessary. —I’ve always thought about what would have happened if distance hadn’t beaten us,” he confessed, with a sad smile.. You took a deep breath, trying to order what was shaking inside. —Sometimes I think too,” you said, looking down. He took a step closer. It didn't touch you, but you felt it. The closeness, the intention, the nostalgia turned into something more intense. —I don’t know what’s going to happen now,” he muttered, “but. glad to have you in front of me again. His hand barely touched yours, a minimal caress, as if to test if the world still allows a second try. And in that brief contact, full of something that is not named but is felt, you knew that the reunion was just beginning.

The air changed as soon as he said your name. No fue un simple saludo: was a discharge, as if the waiting of years condensed in a perfect and dangerous second. You felt the heart accelerate, almost with rage, as if it wanted to claim all that it did not live. He approached slowly, observing you as one who recognizes something valuable that he thought lost. —You're the same. —she whispered, and that phrase, so simple, ran over your skin like a. The hug this time wasn't shy. He surrounded you tightly, pressing you against him, and in that instant all the distance, the years, the doubts. disappeared. You didn't want to let go. Neither does he. In the cafe, they barely paid attention to what they asked for. The conversation went on between laughter, confessions and silences full of electricity.. But what caught you were not the words: it was the way he looked at you, sustained, direct, as if looking for all the answers in your face.. Every time she leaned over to talk to you closer, her scent enveloped you and you felt the urge—that urge you’d always suppressed—to get just a little closer.. Once, his hand touched yours by accident. He didn't withdraw his hand. You either. As he left, the sunset light fell on his features, giving him a warm air, almost too perfect. He walked by your side without saying anything, but you both knew something had changed. When they got to your car, he stopped inches from you. He looked at you with an intensity that made you hold your breath. —You don't know how many times I imagined this moment. —she said in a low voice, filled with more than nostalgia. His hand slowly rose to your face, barely rubbing your cheek with his fingers. A soft touch, but so conscious it shook you. —I always thought, if I saw you again. “I wasn’t going to let it slip away again.”. You looked at him, and in his eyes there was contained desire, a mixture of urgency and fear of crossing a line they both wanted to cross.. You got a little closer, just a sigh away between you. He leaned his forehead against yours, breathing your breath, not touching your lips but dangerously close. —Tell me you felt it too,” he muttered—. Tell me it wasn't just me. And his closeness, his voice trembling against your skin, his hand still on your face. made everything you had been keeping for years start to overflow. You didn't kiss him. Neither does he. But the moment had the same intensity as a kiss not given. A second that promised that nothing would be the same again.

The silence between you vibrated. It wasn’t uncomfortable; it was that kind of silence that says it all before words dare say it.. You felt his breath against your lips, warm, slow, as if he himself was holding back from taking the step they both thought was necessary.. Your heart was beating so loud you wondered if he could hear it. He lowered his hand from your cheek very slowly, as if he didn't want to break the contact altogether. His fingers slipped down to your neck, barely touching you, and that slight touch ran down your spine to make you close your eyes for an instant.. —You don’t know how many times I imagined approaching you like this. —she muttered, in a lower voice than before, so that it seemed that only your skin was listening. You looked at it.. His eyes were fixed on yours, and there was in them a mixture of tenderness and desire so intense that it left you speechless.. You barely held on. He took a deep breath, as if gathering courage. —I don’t want this to be just “what could have been” again”. not again. Tell me you feel this. "His fingers gently pressed your neck, right where your pulse was trembling." this electricity. A wave of heat ran through you. You couldn't lie. —I feel it —you whispered. The expression of him changed: it softened, but at the same time became more determined.. He approached another minimum centimeter, barely perceptible, but enough for your chest to rub his slightly. The contact was light, but it filled the moment with an almost unbearable intensity.. —Then. —his lips rubbed your cheek as he spoke, without actually kissing it, a slow, almost studied touch that took your breath away. Let me stay a little longer with you. Your answer came out without thinking: “Stay. He smiled, a smile mixed with relief and a deep emotion that melted your stomach.. His forehead leaned against yours again, this time more firmly, as if he needed to feel you completely close.. —I don’t want to rush,” he said, stroking the edge of your jaw with his thumb, a gentle, conscious motion.—. I do. to savor it. Every second of this. And in that instant you knew that the reunion wasn't an accident. It was a spark lit again, an opportunity that this time no one thought to let slip.

He took a deep breath, still so close you could feel his chest go up and down against yours. —¿Want to walk a little? —he asked, but his voice had a tone that said much more than that. You nodded.. They walked slowly, following a quiet street where the warm lights of the street lamps seemed to wrap them in a small world apart.. No noise, no people, just you two, as if the whole city had paused to give you space. As they moved forward, he took your hand. He didn’t do it all at once; he rubbed it first, as if testing if you still wanted that touch, and then he intertwined his fingers with yours.. That simple gesture shook you more than any sentence. —I always wanted to hold your hand like this, he confessed—. But first. We were always on point, we were always halfway. You looked at it, feeling a sweet mixture of nostalgia and desire to make up for lost time. —Me too, you admitted. He stopped under a streetlight. The light fell on you like a warm silent circle. He brought you closer to him with a slow, determined gesture, and his hands remained on your waist, as if he finally allowed himself to touch you without fear.. You laid yours on his chest. You felt the beats. He felt yours. —I don’t know what’s going to happen next,” he said softly.—. But I want something real. with you. I want to try. without distance, without excuses. The sincerity in his gaze completely disarmed you. There was no longer contained tension or doubts, just that clarity that comes when the heart stops hiding. —Me too —you whispered—. I no longer want to stay with the desire. He closed his eyes for a second, as if your words hit him right in the soul. When she opened them, she leaned towards you, very slowly, as if giving you time in case you wanted to move away. you didn't. His hands gently went up your back, bringing you closer. And when her lips finally touched yours, it wasn't a desperate urge. It was a slow, deep kiss, filled with all the years they hadn’t lived, all the words they hadn’t said, all the intensity they had been keeping since they separated.. He held you with tenderness, as if he finally had you where he always wanted. The world vanished. There were only your hands holding him, his breath mixing with yours, and that bright, overwhelming feeling that time was finally surrendering to you.. As you parted, he leaned his forehead on your shoulder and laughed softly, with that shaky laugh that only comes when something good, something really good, is really happening.. —This time, he said, kissing your temple, I'm not letting you go. And under the warm light of the lantern, with his firm hand intertwined in yours, you knew that the reunion was not an end. but the beginning they had always hoped for.