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"You've a fever." She says it decisively, taking her hand off his forehead. She's worried about him, but not quite to fretting yet. Caring for people is kind of her thing, and he is her lover. He's more deserving of her caring and fussing than anyone.
"How's the rest of you? Stomach all right?"
"How's the rest of you? Stomach all right?"
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"I can think ahead," he says with a sly smile. "But yes, I suppose that's for another night."
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"Go to sleep, wicked man."
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He takes her hand and kisses it softly before curling up on his side and closing his eyes.
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She isn't going anywhere any time soon.