Monday fiction, in 58 words

Propositions
He traces patterns on her back in the darkness, circles nonsensical shapes. She giggles softly as the lightness of his index finger raises goose flesh.
He switches to writing words in cursive, asks her to guess.
“Window?”
He swirls a fingertip, like it’s dipped in ink.
“Will you?”
He leans in, whispers in her ear:
“Forever and ever?”

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