[She feels the slide of skin on skin against those sensitive parts of the insides of her fingers, holding his hand as he laces them together. Trish would call her an idiot if she did anything to screw this up. She could hear her in the back of her head, telling her to get out of her own damn way and try to find some joy in life instead of just surviving.
She tugs his hand, wanting to draw him closer as she leans in, resting her head on his.]
I suck at this part, Clark. I suck worse when I know what I want to say or do and I just... can't. Or won't. Or don't know how.
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She tugs his hand, wanting to draw him closer as she leans in, resting her head on his.]
I suck at this part, Clark. I suck worse when I know what I want to say or do and I just... can't. Or won't. Or don't know how.