[ There are words on the tip of his tongue -- words he wants to say, because it feels so right to say them.
But he won't. Not yet. Not when this is all so new even if he feels certain that they won't change, except in the way that he'd seen his parents look at each other, once, long ago.
No. Not, just yet. So he'll kiss you instead and smile against your mouth, one hand's fingers tracing the curve of your ear. ] Good.
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But he won't. Not yet. Not when this is all so new even if he feels certain that they won't change, except in the way that he'd seen his parents look at each other, once, long ago.
No. Not, just yet. So he'll kiss you instead and smile against your mouth, one hand's fingers tracing the curve of your ear. ] Good.