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... ble chair, towel-drying her hair. With a playful smile, he sauntered over and reached for the towel, but she held it firmly.

"I can handle it myself," she said, her tone clipped.

"Oh, you can, but not very well, apparently. You are soaking everything." He chuckled as she rolled her eyes, reluctantly surrendering the towel. Vyan took over, gently patting her hair dry, his fingers light and careful.

As a comfortable silence settled, he suggested casually, "This is taking to ...

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