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The smile that starts on Sym’s face when he sees Sol is reflexive by now; when their eyes meet his from across the park it’s easy as always to slip into their embrace, bend down just enough for them to kiss his cheek, and when they ask what he’s doing here, he answers, “I’m afraid I’ve gotten lost.” They pause, blink at him, and he adds, “I’m looking for the way to your heart?”
A beat as they stare back at him, and then their face cracks, as they lean over to bury their face in his shoulder, the whole shape of their smile pressed against his skin. “Oh jeez, Sym, where on Vertumna did you get that from?”
“A magazine,” says Sym, pleased as always to have them close, pleased as always to hear their voice bright and warm. “Did you like it?”
They shake their head, but their shoulders are trembling with silent laughter. “I have more!” says Sym, brightly, and when they pull back enough to meet his eyes with their eyebrows raised, he says, “You have to help, I believe I’m lacking in Vitamin U!”
This time the giggle manages to escape; they’re shaking their head like it’ll hide the smile splitting their lovely face. “Are you a camera?” They raise their eyebrows. “Every time I look at you, I smile.”
That one gets him just a bit of a blush, even as they shake their head and say, apologetically, “These are all pretty terrible, babe.”
“But they made you happy, didn’t they?” He reaches up, runs the back of his finger against their cheek, their skin just a little tacky with sweat and all the more perfect for it. “I’d call them a success, myself.”
Their answering grin is as warm and bright as the sun.