[Hey, no need to play scapegoat with only one of the mice, because all four of them are horrid little gossipmongers and are kind of privy to what's going down in Allura's bedroom anyway.
She laughs lightly before tilting her head in response to his gentle touch, kissing him proper and bringing her hands up to cup his jawline, feeling remarkably giddy. It's still surprising how she'll likely never tire of this; for all his flaws, or perhaps because of them, she's grown to appreciate just how simple this one thing can be. Being with him reminds her of times before all this; where she was a young girl enjoying the boundlessness of youth.
Fantasizing about relationships and kissing and all the sorts of things you read about in secret in those books your father told you not to read. Before she had to grow up and become levelheaded and mature beyond her youth.
She jumps a bit as he squeezes her waist, pulling back from the kiss, hands still at his face, and she's about to say something coy herself before he--
well. Does what he does best.
Her warm, loving expression falters a bit, mouth growing thin, brows knitting together, and she tugs (gently, this time) at the lobe of his ear.]
The bedrooms are soundproof.
[She holds that deadpan expression for a tick, before moving forward, bringing her hand down to his chest, pushing him back gently.]
no subject
She laughs lightly before tilting her head in response to his gentle touch, kissing him proper and bringing her hands up to cup his jawline, feeling remarkably giddy. It's still surprising how she'll likely never tire of this; for all his flaws, or perhaps because of them, she's grown to appreciate just how simple this one thing can be. Being with him reminds her of times before all this; where she was a young girl enjoying the boundlessness of youth.
Fantasizing about relationships and kissing and all the sorts of things you read about in secret in those books your father told you not to read. Before she had to grow up and become levelheaded and mature beyond her youth.
She jumps a bit as he squeezes her waist, pulling back from the kiss, hands still at his face, and she's about to say something coy herself before he--
well. Does what he does best.
Her warm, loving expression falters a bit, mouth growing thin, brows knitting together, and she tugs (gently, this time) at the lobe of his ear.]
The bedrooms are soundproof.
[She holds that deadpan expression for a tick, before moving forward, bringing her hand down to his chest, pushing him back gently.]
Now lie back. I want to keep kissing you.