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“You look exhausted” he mumbles, not even trying to quip a joke, so it must be true. Eyes trained to where you are connected, the pads of his fingers grazing down your palms slowly and deliberately, a cooling blue magic, like creek water pooling in them, healing your cuts. “Can I help?” he asks, nonchalantly, as if it was nothing.
Bookmarked by Spooky_tea
13 Feb 2025
