His eyes were closed, but I could see Marek’s half-smile in the dark. Our noses were touching. His arm was flung over my back. My arm was around his neck and my hand cupped his head, rubbed his hair and back and shoulders. I kissed his forehead, his cheek, his lips. His half-smile became three-quarters full.
“I like this,” he said.
He’s practiced very hard to pronounce both the voiced and unvoiced th . . .
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