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Several days pass in this fashion, with Linya learning Russian (and producing more and more of her idle conversation therein) and brainstorming pen-related ideas and occasionally fiddling around with her keyboard and voice, Miles finishing up his report while cuddling her, and the pair of them invariably waking up snuggled together. It's all terribly cute.

One morning she wakes up snuggled up to him and, uncharacteristically, when she kisses him good morning, does not then proceed to let him go and get up to start her day. She doesn't seem to have any immediate plans to get up at all.
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...Well! That sure is a development. Miles is Pleased.

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She was hoping he would be Pleased! (The fact that he is so relentlessly Pleased is itself rather Pleasing.)

Kisses. Snuggly, horizontal kisses.
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That is rapidly becoming one of Miles's very favourite kinds of kisses!

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She can see the appeal, too. Snuggly horizontal kisses: best thing?

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They rank very highly in the Best Thing competition!

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She is also sort of curiously petting him.

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Well. That's... also a development.

Miles decides that the proper response is: more snuggles.
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It is! It is a proper response. Linya thinks everything is in good order.

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Snuggles!

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And yet eventually Linya's stomach growls.

"Probably time to get up and dressed and breakfast," she says, sighing a little.
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"Yes. Those things," he agrees.

But first: kiss!

Okay, now wakefulness and hygiene and food.
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Kiss!

She unties her braid and rummages in her boxes for a hair accessory while it slowly slides unraveled behind her back.
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...Miles observes that while he has gotten pretty cavalier about hugs and kisses, he still seems to treat Linya's hair like some kind of divine artifact which mortal hands dare not touch.

He decides this is a bit silly.

He asks, "Can I pet your hair?"
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He reaches out and runs his fingertips down the unraveling braid.



...!!!
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She glances over her shoulder.

"You have the most amazing look on your face," she murmurs.
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"Yes, I imagine I do," he says, blinking and coming out of it a little.

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"Did you you know you were the first person to see me out of my bubble who wasn't themselves haut or ba? And you had about the same look on your face then."
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"I did not know that. But yes, I imagine I would have."

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"It's - flattering isn't quite the right word. Something in that neighborhood, though."

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"In what ways is flattering not the right word...? Not that I'm arguing, you understand, I'm just curious about what you mean."

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"I suppose it's also flattering, but - it isn't that I don't know that I am very pretty and my hair is soft. Of course I am very pretty and my hair is soft. And you look at me like that and the of course - goes away."

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"Is that a good thing?"

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