He reached out a hand
And she took it, faithfully.
He brushed aside a tendril of her hair
She glanced at him with parted lips.
He slid his fingers under her chin
She tilted her head back slightly.
He paused, not wanting to rush
She widened her eyes in surprise.
Am I not what you want? she wondered.
He smiled and kissed her cheek, his answer.
They continued onward with joined hands
Palms pressing together, fingers intertwined.
If it was real, they could take their time.



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