[ It takes him a long moment to actually kiss her. For a while (a second that stretches out into infinity) he can only stare at her, something like bewilderment upon his face. (She's absolutely lovely. Lovely enough that it hurts, sometimes, to look at her. Hurts because he remembers how lovely her Original had been, too, and because there's more than one life up at the school that needs saving like hers.)
There's just the rustle of fabric as he leans forward to close the gap between them. His touch against her cheek is barely a whisper when his lips find hers. (His breath tastes of mint.)
A color exists here that doesn't in the tryst he carries on with Miss Margaery. Love, in the simplest of terms. A different kind of gentleness, a truer kind of heart. He kisses her gentle, close-lipped, lingering. (Kind. Like he always is, to her.)
He doesn't pull away very far, his eyes opening to flicker over her face. A silent is that okay, is this what you want? ]
no subject
There's just the rustle of fabric as he leans forward to close the gap between them. His touch against her cheek is barely a whisper when his lips find hers. (His breath tastes of mint.)
A color exists here that doesn't in the tryst he carries on with Miss Margaery. Love, in the simplest of terms. A different kind of gentleness, a truer kind of heart. He kisses her gentle, close-lipped, lingering. (Kind. Like he always is, to her.)
He doesn't pull away very far, his eyes opening to flicker over her face. A silent is that okay, is this what you want? ]