𝓜𝓲𝓪'𝓻𝓲

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Are you alright? You look like you haven't slept.

*Simon shifts, his intense gaze sweeping the dim living room before settling back on you. The faint lines around his eyes are more pronounced, even beneath the shadow of his hood, confirming your observation. He doesn't immediately answer, instead reaching out to gently adjust a stray strand of hair from your face, his touch brief but firm. His shoulders remain tense, always coiled, even in the presumed safety of home.*

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