Her mouth quirks up into that same sad smile she had worn in the morning, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to his forehead, letting her words echo in his skin.]
You... already stole my heart. You even warned me.
I... just want you to ask me more. Ask me, even if it hurts, until you can build something that you recognize around the heart you've taken.
[it's affection he's been craving, warmth that he's wanted-- no, needed-- ever since he fucked things up earlier this week. he leans into that kiss, breath hitching in his throat, grip on her hands tightening]
The foundation is already there. . . you know?
[his words are extremely shaky, but he fights against that unsteadiness, trying his hardest to even out his tone]
Love and relationships aren't built in a day, or even in six weeks. They take time and effort and hard work. . . I know that. I know that there's still a long way to go.
[more questions to ask, more to learn more to discover]
. . . if you'll let me, then I want to keep going. I want to keep trying to understand. I want to keep building. [. . .] I already recognize what's there, but. . .
[her words stay calm against the timbre of his own, thumbs tracing against the warmth of his skin]
I can't pretend that the mistakes you've made haven't hurt. I'm sorry. I... I would be lying if I said my perception hasn't been altered.
But... I forgive you.
[One of her hands releases, only to press against his face with a gentle curl of her knuckles, guiding him to look at her, at blue eyes that hold warmth even with the hurt and fatigue and distress that she still has yet to address.]
May I have permission to kiss you, phantom thief of hearts?
[it's rather easy to guide his face upwards; he doesn't resist her at all, and while the glassy quality of his eyes as leaked out a little bit, moisture collecting at the edges, he is. . . well]
[he's smiling. it's gentle and and contrite and, perhaps, a little relieved]
[. . . he lifts the hand she released, resting it against her shoulder, fingers curling into the collar of her shirt]
Y-- yeah.
[he stumbles over that response, not because he's hesitating, but because he might be trying his best not to cry]
Of course. From now on, you don't-- you don't even need to ask.
[. . . but he'll let her ultimately close the distance between them, even though his chin is tilted up and ready]
[Mmm. Something in that crack of his composure tugs at her heart. Her hand moves gently, lifting just enough to brush against where those tears have started to collect.]
...It's okay, Akira.
It's only me.
["It's okay to cry."
She will give him a moment, squeezing at his hand, before leaning into to carefully press her lips to his.]
[ah. fuck. damn it. every time she says that. . .]
[he shakes his head, screwing his eyes shut just in time to allow a small trickle of moisture to cascade down his cheek. he always feels so stupid when he cries. . . even though he knows, logically, that it's okay to do so]
[even though he encourages others-- has encouraged her-- to let it out]
[he doesn't have time to argue the point though, because a moment later she leans in to catch his mouth with hers. she'll taste the slightest bit of salt from where the tear gathered at the corners of his lips (if she can taste???), but there isn't any hesitation or uncertainty in the way he kisses her back]
[just as gentle as the first. . . well. the second time]
[Unlike before, where they had been in the view of others... now, they have privacy. Now she can let herself linger on every motion, let him catch his breath as he needs to, let him guide her when she inevitably hesitates. It's a warm, curious process, her hand slipping to support his head, caught up in the gentle curls of his hair.]
[it's warm, curious, and fully exploratory. . . as before, he's experienced but doesn't take it too deeply or too far for her to catch up with. it's a process of getting to know each other, of memorizing and learning how their lips feel pressed together. of memorizing her taste and her scent and everything that makes her so wonderful]
[his hand slips from the collar of her shirt, fingers brushing up against her neck, before it comes to rest at her cheek]
i can't believe this was supposed to be serious but now they're making out
[There's a pleased sound at the contact against her skin, a breathless noise against his mouth, trying her best to parrot his actions and listen to the sound of his breathing.
After a moment, her free hand moves to his shoulder, breaking off the kiss just long enough to try and urge him down to the couch, only staying a breath's distance away.]
P-please... I don't want you to fall over... [This way, this way, please :(]
[she pulls away before he's quite ready for her to go, which is evident in the sharp exhale of breath that follows. his eyes flutter open, lidded and clouded with the same daze she saw from him earlier. he doesn't move his hand from her cheek]
. . . hn?
[it. . . has not occurred to him that they could fall over]
Oh-- right. . . I should--
[he pushes against the couch arm so he can just kind of. . . slide across it until it ends. and when it does, he is just going to flop uselessly backwards onto the couch cushions, landing on his back with a small oof]
[She'll let out a tired little laugh, sliding to kind of half-sit on the couch because she is not bold enough to just crawl on top of him that's rude and forward.]
Sorry, I... I would feel bad if you ended up on the floor again because of me...
[She will gently lean back over him, though, slightly embarrassed at her own eagerness.]
[it's okay he is politely sitting up so she isn't forced to crawl on top of him!! but only a little bit, so she can still lean over him, so he's still looking up at her and is able to see the brilliant shine of her smile]
O-- of course it is.
[he cradles both of her cheeks in his palms, thumb brushing across the lines of her features, his touch affectionate and gentle]
She'll take up his lips again, a hand resting against the nape of his neck while the other plays against his hair, her touch gentle. This time, the kiss is far slower, trying to enjoy every second of it, etching the memory of his touch and warmth into her mind, feeling his heartbeat drumming under her fingertips and wishing she could stay like this forever.
...
She can't, though. Not just yet. It's why she is far more hesitant to lean away from this kiss, her eyes clouded with an apologetic warmth.]
...I... I think I've gotten my point across. [She forgives him. She wants... something, though she isn't sure what. But to ask for it now, when she's still hurting and still... still wondering so much about what had just happened to her...
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Her mouth quirks up into that same sad smile she had worn in the morning, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to his forehead, letting her words echo in his skin.]
You... already stole my heart. You even warned me.
I... just want you to ask me more. Ask me, even if it hurts, until you can build something that you recognize around the heart you've taken.
no subject
[it's affection he's been craving, warmth that he's wanted-- no, needed-- ever since he fucked things up earlier this week. he leans into that kiss, breath hitching in his throat, grip on her hands tightening]
The foundation is already there. . . you know?
[his words are extremely shaky, but he fights against that unsteadiness, trying his hardest to even out his tone]
Love and relationships aren't built in a day, or even in six weeks. They take time and effort and hard work. . . I know that. I know that there's still a long way to go.
[more questions to ask, more to learn more to discover]
. . . if you'll let me, then I want to keep going. I want to keep trying to understand. I want to keep building. [. . .] I already recognize what's there, but. . .
It'd be nice to be able to make it even stronger.
no subject
[her words stay calm against the timbre of his own, thumbs tracing against the warmth of his skin]
I can't pretend that the mistakes you've made haven't hurt. I'm sorry. I... I would be lying if I said my perception hasn't been altered.
But... I forgive you.
[One of her hands releases, only to press against his face with a gentle curl of her knuckles, guiding him to look at her, at blue eyes that hold warmth even with the hurt and fatigue and distress that she still has yet to address.]
May I have permission to kiss you, phantom thief of hearts?
no subject
[he's smiling. it's gentle and and contrite and, perhaps, a little relieved]
[. . . he lifts the hand she released, resting it against her shoulder, fingers curling into the collar of her shirt]
Y-- yeah.
[he stumbles over that response, not because he's hesitating, but because he might be trying his best not to cry]
Of course. From now on, you don't-- you don't even need to ask.
[. . . but he'll let her ultimately close the distance between them, even though his chin is tilted up and ready]
no subject
...It's okay, Akira.
It's only me.
["It's okay to cry."
She will give him a moment, squeezing at his hand, before leaning into to carefully press her lips to his.]
no subject
[he shakes his head, screwing his eyes shut just in time to allow a small trickle of moisture to cascade down his cheek. he always feels so stupid when he cries. . . even though he knows, logically, that it's okay to do so]
[even though he encourages others-- has encouraged her-- to let it out]
[he doesn't have time to argue the point though, because a moment later she leans in to catch his mouth with hers. she'll taste the slightest bit of salt from where the tear gathered at the corners of his lips (if she can taste???), but there isn't any hesitation or uncertainty in the way he kisses her back]
[just as gentle as the first. . . well. the second time]
no subject
no subject
[his hand slips from the collar of her shirt, fingers brushing up against her neck, before it comes to rest at her cheek]
i can't believe this was supposed to be serious but now they're making out
After a moment, her free hand moves to his shoulder, breaking off the kiss just long enough to try and urge him down to the couch, only staying a breath's distance away.]
P-please... I don't want you to fall over... [This way, this way, please :(]
IT'S SERIOUS MAKING OUT!!!
. . . hn?
[it. . . has not occurred to him that they could fall over]
Oh-- right. . . I should--
[he pushes against the couch arm so he can just kind of. . . slide across it until it ends. and when it does, he is just going to flop uselessly backwards onto the couch cushions, landing on his back with a small oof]
[nerd]
no subject
Sorry, I... I would feel bad if you ended up on the floor again because of me...
[She will gently lean back over him, though, slightly embarrassed at her own eagerness.]
...Just a little longer. Is... is that okay?
no subject
O-- of course it is.
[he cradles both of her cheeks in his palms, thumb brushing across the lines of her features, his touch affectionate and gentle]
As long as you want, Luna.
no subject
She'll take up his lips again, a hand resting against the nape of his neck while the other plays against his hair, her touch gentle. This time, the kiss is far slower, trying to enjoy every second of it, etching the memory of his touch and warmth into her mind, feeling his heartbeat drumming under her fingertips and wishing she could stay like this forever.
...
She can't, though. Not just yet. It's why she is far more hesitant to lean away from this kiss, her eyes clouded with an apologetic warmth.]
...I... I think I've gotten my point across. [She forgives him. She wants... something, though she isn't sure what. But to ask for it now, when she's still hurting and still... still wondering so much about what had just happened to her...
...]
...Akira... Could you tell me what happened?
Please?