Maybe this is her fault. Maybe she didn't want to go home enough – but then, she hadn't wanted to come here, in the first place. She shakes off the gloomy thoughts and flicks her crooked smile at him.
"I know, baby," she murmurs, and lets her fingers brush his. "Thanks for trying."
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"I know, baby," she murmurs, and lets her fingers brush his. "Thanks for trying."