A warm meal and a quiet night

KIADA we are all just fighting to survive a world, where 'i miss you' doesn't mean I'm coming back. The offer is outstretched, and Kiada waits with baited breath and glossy eyes, her hand in his over a table with a meal he’d prepared just for her, just for them to have a night together. And she watches as a goofy smile crosses his face, at the confirmation that he does want this and how she hasn’t fucked up in reading the room or his reaction to her. And it helps, somewhere deep down, that cold mask of herself slipping as she invites in his warmth. But then he’s standing, after saying he wanted to finish dinner and the confusion flashes in her gaze as she watches him, but goes to stand as well — to bridge that gap as she keeps her hand in his, as his own comes down to cup her chin and she’s tilting her head a small amount into his touch. Her icy gaze softens as she looks up and meets his own, hears his whisper despite the loudness of the bar, and her stomach flips in its surprise at such a suggestion. And really she wants nothing more. He’s in her space, intimately so, and she keeps her hand in his though the other lifts to rest along his neck to keep him close to her, trying to fit herself a small amount closer to him as she gives into his request, into him, and bridges the gap for the tender and soft kiss, meeting him in the middle. And it feels almost like a weight has been lifted, like that dark shadow that cast over her this entire time has disappeared, as if all she could see was the light that he could bring her even if it terrified her deep down. She breaks the kiss when her stomach continues to flip, moving to wrap her arms around him in a tight hug and to press herself against him wherever she can, the need to be close and touchy far outweighing the idea of giving him space again. and 'I love you' doesn't mean I'll stay...