show me yours | matty healy
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He lifts his hand, slowly tracing his fingers up her arm until they reach her face leaving goosebumps and a warm trail behind. Then he moves just his pinky finger across her cheekbone, dragging along until he pulls the stray strands of hair behind her ear.
She's silent, holding her breath as her eyes stay on him, only him, and he whispers, "Show me yours, I'll show you mine."
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