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Harry’s heart was beating out of his chest, looking at Draco and not knowing if he should say it or not. Holding his breath for as long as he could, Harry looked up at his mate with his wide green eyes, parting his lips and finally whispering.
“Will…will we, make love? Hm or…finish our bond?” Harry said timidly, as though he wasn’t supposed to ask in the first place.
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"Why is it that, as a culture, we are more comfortable seeing two men holding guns than holding hands?"
~Ernest Gaines
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