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Summary
Before Loid's brain can catch up, the words tumble out, “You’re more than enough.”
“How are you so sure?”
Loid gently turns Yor’s hand over so that her palm faces up. He traces her hand with his thumb as softly as he can muster. A part of his ministrations comes from practice. Some of it feels like a genuine act of comfort. Twilight or Loid, it doesn’t matter. He tries to convey what words can’t: his apology, his fear, and the care he has for her in a single action. He kisses her inner wrist. It’s soft and fleeting against his lips. “Because you’re you. And that’s a beautiful thing to be.”
It scares him how easily he falls into these cloying, tender habits. And yet, Yor looks at him like he’s the kindest man she knows.
