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Summary
“Well, sometimes the old things are the best things. May I?” Stede asks, not waiting for an answer. He takes the silk from Ed, pulling it through his fingers. Ed’s breath catches in his throat, unsure of what Stede will do. Stede twists and wraps the silk into a delicate pocket square, tucking it into the breast pocket of Ed’s borrowed vest. “There we go,” he says, as Ed looks down, gently running a hand over the smooth fabric.
or, what would have happened if Ed actually kissed Stede