"Are you?" He looked down on her, drinking in her beautiful features, and then brushed a lock of hair away from her face, his arm around her waist still holding her tight to him, secure - he wanted her to know, to feel, that he had her back and wouldn't let anything happen to her. His lips dropped easily to her forehead, the apples of her cheeks, and her eyelids before he finally drew back, allowing her to speak. -- The Lowell Residence

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