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His smile was slow and radiant, the kind that crinkled the corners of his eyes and made my heart do that ridiculous flip it always did around him.
He leaned in to kiss me again, soft and lingering this time, without any heat behind it, just comfort and quiet affection. When he pulled away, he tucked a damp strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering against my skin.
"Good," he murmured. "Because you were incredible. So fascinating when you let go like that. I've never seen anything better."
Heat crept back into my cheeks, but it was a warmer kind this time, less frantic. I buried my face into his chest again, listening to the steady thump of his heart slowing beneath my ear.
His hand slid up my back in smooth, soothing strokes, tracing my spine as if he was mapping me all over again, committing every inch to his memory. I melted into it, tension I hadn't even realized I was holding seeping out of me with each pass of his palm.
