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He is, very simply, a never-before-experienced mix of cute and overwhelmingly masculine. With a complex, layered air about him. It spells simultaneously Do not piss me off because I don’t fuck around and Ma’am, let me carry those groceries for you.
He smiles, and the thought that I could have died—I could have died—without being smiled at like this, by this man, has my lips trembling.
