[ Harvey eyes her back, something darker in his gaze then; his eyes narrow, brows low, and that lock of hair casts a shadow down his face to his pursed, scowling upper lip.
He pulls back from her touch, hand lifting as if he expects her to grab him, or rip at his face, try to undo his hard work. When she doesn't, he almost relaxes, but not entirely.
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He pulls back from her touch, hand lifting as if he expects her to grab him, or rip at his face, try to undo his hard work. When she doesn't, he almost relaxes, but not entirely.
Definitively and defensively, he says: ]
This is me. Who do you think I am, Lil?