![]() ![]() Then I slid my fingers into the soft mass of his hair, warm in my hands, and did the same to his scalp. I touched his face, my fingers feather-light on his skin, tracing the bones and hollows, temples and orbits, cheekbones and jaw. He moaned a little, but stopped resisting and lowered himself very slowly, ‘til his head rested heavy in my lap. “Down,” I said again, sitting and pulling his shoulders toward me. It still was mostly red, though soft white threads caught the light here and there. I undid his ribbon and unraveled the thick strands of auburn hair. I stood up, took his shoulders and turned him gently so I could reach his plait. He was breathing slowly and shallowly, as though drawing a deep breath might make things worse. He swallowed, opened his eyes, and sat down beside me, very gingerly. He opened his mouth, but a spasm of pain made him shut his eyes, and he couldn’t locate any words with which to argue. ![]() “You’ll be flat on your face in another minute,” I said. “I don’t care whether you’re fine or not,” I said. “Lie down,” I said firmly, and pointed to my lap. ![]()
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