[He never knows just what to do with those words, and it takes a little bit for him to give any sort of an answer; a quiet nod, his hand curling into hers then to give a half squeeze.]
... Alright. Just don't worry too much, or you'll go and make your hair turn gray. [It's a small tease, one that makes his other hand reach up to flick a strand of blond hair from her forehead, the tiniest smile on his face.]
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... Alright. Just don't worry too much, or you'll go and make your hair turn gray. [It's a small tease, one that makes his other hand reach up to flick a strand of blond hair from her forehead, the tiniest smile on his face.]