He looked over at her, and he heard the words. They were a small pebble in the bucket against the pessimistic, cynical bastard that he felt he'd become, but for a moment, he wanted to believe them. He wanted to believe that he had actually done some good for someone. It didn't make anything better, but it helped.
His hand moved over hers, covering the one that was placed on his arm. "Thank you."
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His hand moved over hers, covering the one that was placed on his arm. "Thank you."