Her eyes follow his hand as it leaves her arm, drops back to his side. They come back up to his face, still anxious, still worried, as though she could attempt to read his mind through his features.
"Here." Her voice is husky, a little hoarse from disuse. "I've been . . . here."
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"Here." Her voice is husky, a little hoarse from disuse. "I've been . . . here."