[ He moved her hand then, resting it on the comforter beside her in such a delicate and firm fashion. Was he trying to tell her something? To give him space? That much was easy to understand, and suddenly keenly aware of how close they were, she willed herself to move. To speak, to come up with some reason.
And again she couldn't. Why? It would be so easy, and really he need only ask.
But almost as quickly he too moved, not away, but toward her. Tipping her chin upward just slightly, she felt it suddenly and gently caught by the curl of his knuckles. Opening her eyes in a fluttered blink, she felt him tip her face upward just so, closing the space between with a gentle press of lips to lips.
Hopefully he would forgive her for the sudden rude behavior, for her eyes opened quite wide just then in complete and utter disbelief and uncertainty. How even as the feeling rushed through her like lightning, hot-cold and intoxicating that she nearly forgot herself in that moment, she somehow knew what to do, her body quieting. Eyes closing and body adjusting as she seemed to melt into his kiss.
Losing herself for a moment.
And where one might think her signature would burst into a flurry of every color known and unknown, it was surprisingly quiet, that gentle hum. The colors that made up everything that she was coming together, burning incandescently in an almost opalescent white. Strong yet lonely, light tightly wound around dark, both so deeply profound yet almost perfectly complimentary in their contrast. Reaching ever for something and, when met with his own signature, something that she knew so well, weaving between the gaps. Shining brightly through them with an almost tingly warmth that could only be described as feeling. Yet it was nearly impossible to separate one from the other; love, loyalty, loneliness, fear, uncertainty, conviction. A longing for acceptance. Each one seemed to shimmer like colored lights in the greater collective, a road map to the inner workings of her own soul.
While not the chaotic burst that he felt while leaping from seemingly impossible heights, it was still present all the same. More than it had been that night, more certain of itself. Yet unlike before, that light would reach out, not quite touching but weaving around, complimenting, illuminating.
And they say that this was the window to one's soul, and feeling him so profoundly there, that surge of mana and emotion almost overpowering, But she wouldn't shy away, instead losing herself to it, to this feeling—and to the warmth of him—bringing a hand to gently, almost tentatively dust her fingertips against his temple, brushing his hair aside. To try to quiet that torrent baring down on the both of them.
[2/3]
And again she couldn't. Why? It would be so easy, and really he need only ask.
But almost as quickly he too moved, not away, but toward her. Tipping her chin upward just slightly, she felt it suddenly and gently caught by the curl of his knuckles. Opening her eyes in a fluttered blink, she felt him tip her face upward just so, closing the space between with a gentle press of lips to lips.
Hopefully he would forgive her for the sudden rude behavior, for her eyes opened quite wide just then in complete and utter disbelief and uncertainty. How even as the feeling rushed through her like lightning, hot-cold and intoxicating that she nearly forgot herself in that moment, she somehow knew what to do, her body quieting. Eyes closing and body adjusting as she seemed to melt into his kiss.
Losing herself for a moment.
And where one might think her signature would burst into a flurry of every color known and unknown, it was surprisingly quiet, that gentle hum. The colors that made up everything that she was coming together, burning incandescently in an almost opalescent white. Strong yet lonely, light tightly wound around dark, both so deeply profound yet almost perfectly complimentary in their contrast. Reaching ever for something and, when met with his own signature, something that she knew so well, weaving between the gaps. Shining brightly through them with an almost tingly warmth that could only be described as feeling. Yet it was nearly impossible to separate one from the other; love, loyalty, loneliness, fear, uncertainty, conviction. A longing for acceptance. Each one seemed to shimmer like colored lights in the greater collective, a road map to the inner workings of her own soul.
While not the chaotic burst that he felt while leaping from seemingly impossible heights, it was still present all the same. More than it had been that night, more certain of itself. Yet unlike before, that light would reach out, not quite touching but weaving around, complimenting, illuminating.
And they say that this was the window to one's soul, and feeling him so profoundly there, that surge of mana and emotion almost overpowering, But she wouldn't shy away, instead losing herself to it, to this feeling—and to the warmth of him—bringing a hand to gently, almost tentatively dust her fingertips against his temple, brushing his hair aside. To try to quiet that torrent baring down on the both of them.
"I know..." ]