"Fred," he breathes, and he doesn't sit down across from her. Instead, he takes a knee beside her booth, reaching up to cup her face with one roughened palm. He wants to recreate that feeling.
He doesn't know what the hell he's doing, just that something finally feels like home. Fuckin' magic.
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He doesn't know what the hell he's doing, just that something finally feels like home. Fuckin' magic.