[What blood Martin still possesses rushes to his cheeks as Tim just... does that. He reels a bit, light-headed, and can't really respond for a few seconds. Tim is stroking his hair and it feels nice, gentle. Oh, god, Martin is going to screw this up somehow. Maybe he shouldn't say anything at all, just be silent and it will keep going. The level of desperation for simple touch is pathetic, and Martin knows it. Still...]
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Wait. You-you've talked to her before?