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She sat alone on the bed, her arms clutched tightly around her knees. She was crying softly to herself.
He quietly stepped into the room. Seeing her sobbing, he sat down beside her and hugged her tightly until the sobs subsided.
“Kiss me,” he murmured.
She looked at him, bewildered. “But I’m all tear-stained and blotchy.”
He kissed her forehead, then the bridge of her nose, before brushing her lips. “Who cares? You’ve never been more beautiful.” She snorted and shoved him away. “Do you feel better now?” he asked.
“A bit,” she replied. “But I might feel even better after another kiss.”
He happily obliged, smiling.