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Departure during golden hour leaves an impression: absence, "No goodbye?"
The crimson lady stopped mid-climb on the ladder, turning her head to regard the voice matter-of-factually, "You hate goodbyes, Beloved."
Squall stood nearby, arms crossed, "There's other ways."
Adjusting her weight before she swings forward catching him with one arm, as he reciprocated, "A kiss is appropriate."
He smirked, "You'd ruin your lipstick for me?"
The dragoon chuckled, her lashes fan the top of her cheeks, "Re-application exists, 'Loved. You are the one that will wear my mark."
Distance made the heart grow fonder, while making their reunions intimately exciting.
