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In These Arms His arms, his love, cradled her; the gentle touch of his hands running rhythmically through her hair soothed away the pain, uncertainty and regret. Softly whispered words drove away the last of the ghosts that had haunted her. How he could forgive her, trust her, and continue to love her after all she’d done—all they’d done—she didn’t know. That he did, was beyond doubt and something she swore to herself she would no longer take for granted. Her eyes closed as he soothed her gently into sleep, her fingers curling instinctively into his shirt, clutching him to her. Matching drabble from Spike's pov. A Different Sort of Drug
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