a glass half full
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But blinking awake beneath his sheets just felt natural at this point. Especially when she awoke to the feeling of calloused fingers caressing her back and shoulder in aimless swirls as he watched her, averting his gaze once her eyes peered open—as if the hempen curtains were so much more interesting. As if she wouldn't notice.
An endless cycle of wanting and wondering and willing yourself to believe it can never come true.
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- Part 1 of a glass half full