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Now the rhythm’s deeper. Alise leans in, both hands working in perfect sync. You catch Helena shifting, her fingers clutching the sides of the table just a little too long.
The silence? Still there β€” but it’s thicker now. Weighted. Every glide of Alise’s palms leaves a pause behind. And that pause is doing the real work.
πŸŽ§πŸ’§πŸ–€

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