[ Only a short time ago, all of this had been unthinkable. To lie in the warmth of the sun, embracing someone for whom he feels genuine care (and who cares for him in return), caught up in a kiss that doesn't spark any feelings of self-loathing or disgust within him. There's a part of him that feels like he's a step apart — still thinking about it a little too much — but he expects she's in much the same boat. And that's a boon more than anything else; they'd promised each other a hand to hold in the days to come, and part of that includes feeling these sorts of things out together.
It feels like they've done things in reverse, to a certain extent, but, he thinks, it was for the best, establishing at least the faint outline of mutual want before going further, getting the kinds of pretenses they might otherwise be putting on now out of their systems. It's not like him to be sweet — or at least, he works his hardest to ensure nobody would ever say so — but it's what he defaults to, given the latitude. The press of his arms his gentle, firm enough to keep her held to him, but not so tight that she couldn't easily back away if she wanted to.
That said, it pleases him that she doesn't, that she in fact draws even closer. In turn, he leans into her touch (again, permission, a sign that it hasn't escaped his notice that every move she makes is tentative, an ask, a gap left for him to fill or back away from, should he feel at all uncomfortable with it), a sigh escaping him as well — smoothing out the slope of his shoulders and any tension therein — as he kisses her in return.
He laughs — really nothing more than a low hum caught in his throat — as she finds his fangs, charmed more than anything else, at least if the fact that he doesn't break away from her is any indication. There's a somewhat canned response that comes to mind (if I'd known you were so curious, I'd have kissed you sooner), but it's gone from his mind just as quickly as it manifests. It's true, but he knows it wouldn't have felt the same, wouldn't have had the same effect; they've only just found their footing. ]
There, [ he says instead, the first time their lips part. ] I think that's our promise sealed.
[ The line of his mouth curves into a smile — they're still so close that he can feel her breath on his skin, the tip of his nose brushing against hers. ]
Though, perhaps we ought to try it again — just to be certain.
no subject
It feels like they've done things in reverse, to a certain extent, but, he thinks, it was for the best, establishing at least the faint outline of mutual want before going further, getting the kinds of pretenses they might otherwise be putting on now out of their systems. It's not like him to be sweet — or at least, he works his hardest to ensure nobody would ever say so — but it's what he defaults to, given the latitude. The press of his arms his gentle, firm enough to keep her held to him, but not so tight that she couldn't easily back away if she wanted to.
That said, it pleases him that she doesn't, that she in fact draws even closer. In turn, he leans into her touch (again, permission, a sign that it hasn't escaped his notice that every move she makes is tentative, an ask, a gap left for him to fill or back away from, should he feel at all uncomfortable with it), a sigh escaping him as well — smoothing out the slope of his shoulders and any tension therein — as he kisses her in return.
He laughs — really nothing more than a low hum caught in his throat — as she finds his fangs, charmed more than anything else, at least if the fact that he doesn't break away from her is any indication. There's a somewhat canned response that comes to mind (if I'd known you were so curious, I'd have kissed you sooner), but it's gone from his mind just as quickly as it manifests. It's true, but he knows it wouldn't have felt the same, wouldn't have had the same effect; they've only just found their footing. ]
There, [ he says instead, the first time their lips part. ] I think that's our promise sealed.
[ The line of his mouth curves into a smile — they're still so close that he can feel her breath on his skin, the tip of his nose brushing against hers. ]
Though, perhaps we ought to try it again — just to be certain.