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... , and as she drew, her fingertips began to exert a slightly anxious force.
She shifted restlessly in my arms, her breathing noticeably more rapid than before.
I looked down and met her raised eyes. Her eyes were watery, as if veiled in mist, burning with an unsatisfied fire, and a hint of embarrassment at being watched by her daughter.
"silently..."
Her voice was terribly hoarse, carrying a hint of coquettish complaint, yet also sounding like an explanation, "You. ...
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