Her hands linger on things; the railing of an escalator, the steel bars of the subway exit. They dive and sweep and graze, then return again to her side. Like little birds learning to fly.
Everything about her seems to draw his attention lately. The way her hips sway when she walks, the angle of her head when she flirts. She laughs and she moves and she becomes every other woman he's ever known. She belongs.
Then he sees her satin-covered arms, and thinks of a gift that will never be unwrapped. Reaching for a world she won't ever touch.
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