[ Is it her magic that lets her feel the beat of his heart beneath her fingertips, or is she simply hearing her own? For despite her fear of this kiss ending badly, she realizes she wants it even more, and that is making her heart want to leap out of her chest. She used to roll her eyes at her brothers for pining and being all lovesick for someone, but caught in this moment, she finally understands.
It's almost hard to breathe with how close they are — noses touching, his free hand at the back of her head, hers on his chest. When he speaks, she feels that slightest brush against her lips, and even that level of contact is so good, she's momentarily bewildered why he's still talking and not kissing her.
Er, right. She'd stopped him, asked if he was sure. Stupid girl. ]
Y-Yes.
[ Her confirmation comes out in a breathless whisper, so soft she's not even sure she actually said anything at all and she didn't just lean in to close the gap. And that's just what it is, at first — a gentle press — yet even then it already feels like she's waking up from a long, dreamless sleep.
Her insecurities linger in the background, of course. You can't hide now, you monster, they try to whisper, reminding her of her scarred face and chapped lips and the ugliness she'd been born with, but just when she thinks she might cave in to that pressure, he is there, kissing her just a little more solidly, a little more certainly. Saving her from herself.
So she holds on to that lifeline he's offered, kissing him back — first with that mirroring tentativeness, then with a mirroring confidence because he's not stopped or pulled away. He'd said he won't do anything just to spare her feelings, so if he's doing this, if he's still kissing her, then somehow, as unbelievable as it might be, he's enjoying it. Emboldened, she follows his lead and matches his movements, falling into a dance that only they hear the music and know the steps to. Her lips part with a sigh. Her fingers start to fist the front of his shirt, and when, in doing so, her fingertips find a sliver of his skin below the hollow of his throat, she seeks more of it until she's gently cupping his cheek.
When they finally stop, her eyes are closed and she's smiling against his mouth. ]
Wow.
[ Then she peers up at him, worry seeping into her expression. ]
i need this gal in more things but i found at least one icon i can use for shippy stuff lmao
It's almost hard to breathe with how close they are — noses touching, his free hand at the back of her head, hers on his chest. When he speaks, she feels that slightest brush against her lips, and even that level of contact is so good, she's momentarily bewildered why he's still talking and not kissing her.
Er, right. She'd stopped him, asked if he was sure. Stupid girl. ]
Y-Yes.
[ Her confirmation comes out in a breathless whisper, so soft she's not even sure she actually said anything at all and she didn't just lean in to close the gap. And that's just what it is, at first — a gentle press — yet even then it already feels like she's waking up from a long, dreamless sleep.
Her insecurities linger in the background, of course. You can't hide now, you monster, they try to whisper, reminding her of her scarred face and chapped lips and the ugliness she'd been born with, but just when she thinks she might cave in to that pressure, he is there, kissing her just a little more solidly, a little more certainly. Saving her from herself.
So she holds on to that lifeline he's offered, kissing him back — first with that mirroring tentativeness, then with a mirroring confidence because he's not stopped or pulled away. He'd said he won't do anything just to spare her feelings, so if he's doing this, if he's still kissing her, then somehow, as unbelievable as it might be, he's enjoying it. Emboldened, she follows his lead and matches his movements, falling into a dance that only they hear the music and know the steps to. Her lips part with a sigh. Her fingers start to fist the front of his shirt, and when, in doing so, her fingertips find a sliver of his skin below the hollow of his throat, she seeks more of it until she's gently cupping his cheek.
When they finally stop, her eyes are closed and she's smiling against his mouth. ]
Wow.
[ Then she peers up at him, worry seeping into her expression. ]
Sorry. Was I... was that...