[ It's almost instinctive now for her to reach up and touch his face -- without even having to think about it, she carefully cups his face in her hand, brushing her thumb over his cheek in a gesture so familiar it feels almost like muscle memory by now. She's tired -- both of them are so tired. But she gives him a smile and there's a tiny spark in her eyes. Not a flame quite yet. But eventually. ]
I wouldn't want it any other way. I want to walk through it with you.
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I wouldn't want it any other way. I want to walk through it with you.