[A faint blush dusts his cheeks. His fingers twitch, curling slightly into his palms, and he doesn't meet her eyes out of shyness. He wonders if she meant for him to hear those silent words, kind and then hopeful, but he knows them to be her sincere desires.
This isn't over yet. There's still a week.]
. . . This time, I'll stay.
[This time, I won't leave you to bear the weight alone.]
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This isn't over yet. There's still a week.]
. . . This time, I'll stay.
[This time, I won't leave you to bear the weight alone.]