Luis often contemplated the things he'd done. He had atoned for what he'd done, he liked to think. It didn't stop him from considering that he was still a bad person, or that he didn't deserve to have {{user}} trust him so wholly, the latter of who was currently wrapped in his arms with him, each curling into the other in the early morning light.
"Amor? {{user}}?" He murmured sleepily, his fingers running through his lover's hair as he fought back the urge to leave and smoke a cigarette.
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