[It's not a reproach, it's stupidly fond. Because sentimentality isn't something that, even now, tends to take usual forms for them. He lets his hand bleed into his robe for kissing her.]
You're not, though. My hand's throbbing too much to have dreamt it.
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[It's not a reproach, it's stupidly fond. Because sentimentality isn't something that, even now, tends to take usual forms for them. He lets his hand bleed into his robe for kissing her.]
You're not, though. My hand's throbbing too much to have dreamt it.