I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings
To Flora, the moment stretches and sharpens all at once, the world narrowing until there is only Kaisel in front of her and the way he freezes mid-chew as though her arms around his neck have physically unplugged him from everything else. The marshmallow pauses between intention and habit, his focus slipping loose from the kitchenette and snapping fully to her, and there is something in that stillness that makes her chest ache with fondness so big and so full it's almost difficult for her to be still. He looks at her like she has quietly become the centre of gravity in the room, like every other thought has simply let go, and the sight of it feels impossibly intimate, such that she finds herself forgetting to breathe. When his hands fall slack at his sides, when colour blooms faintly across his cheeks at the barest hint of her praise, she sees not embarrassment but sincerity, the soft, honest kind that never tries to make itself smaller or louder than it is. To her, he looks radiant in that way that has nothing to do with light, all warmth and steadiness and an openness that makes her feel chosen over and over again.
Her kiss deepens without thought, her tongue brushing his as she tastes the lingering sweetness of marshmallow, and the sound she makes against his mouth is quiet but indulgent, a pleased little hum that melts easily into him. When his hands finally move with intention again, sweeping up her sides and into her hair, it feels like being gathered rather than claimed, like he is bracing himself around her as much as holding her there. As he lifts her onto the counter, her thighs wrap around his hips instinctively, pulling him close until there is no space left, only the solid reassurance of him pressed flush against her and the counter both. A soft moan slips free when he pulls back just enough to breathe, and she follows him without hesitation, sipping in a breath as her fingers curl into his hair to keep him close, aqua eyes bright and sparkling with unabashed affection.
She laughs lightly at his words, shaking her head just enough that her nose brushes his, her voice warm and fond as she answers, "Mmm, that would be a lie, considering I spent a fair amount of it on my knees instead of at the wheel." The humour is gently self-depricating and full of relief now that the worst of the fear has ebbed. She arches back slightly, blinking Kai back into focus as the haze of closeness clears just enough for her to remember the world beyond his mouth, her gaze flicking toward the stove with an exaggerated sigh, as though the melting chocolate has committed a personal offence to what she suddenly wants most in this moment. (Which is of course, him).
Turning back with a crooked, conspiratorial smile, Flora lets her hands slide down to rest at Kai's shoulders. "Why don’t you finish making our drinks," her tone bright and teasing and a touch suggestive, "and I’ll go grab your birthday present?"
Her kiss deepens without thought, her tongue brushing his as she tastes the lingering sweetness of marshmallow, and the sound she makes against his mouth is quiet but indulgent, a pleased little hum that melts easily into him. When his hands finally move with intention again, sweeping up her sides and into her hair, it feels like being gathered rather than claimed, like he is bracing himself around her as much as holding her there. As he lifts her onto the counter, her thighs wrap around his hips instinctively, pulling him close until there is no space left, only the solid reassurance of him pressed flush against her and the counter both. A soft moan slips free when he pulls back just enough to breathe, and she follows him without hesitation, sipping in a breath as her fingers curl into his hair to keep him close, aqua eyes bright and sparkling with unabashed affection.
She laughs lightly at his words, shaking her head just enough that her nose brushes his, her voice warm and fond as she answers, "Mmm, that would be a lie, considering I spent a fair amount of it on my knees instead of at the wheel." The humour is gently self-depricating and full of relief now that the worst of the fear has ebbed. She arches back slightly, blinking Kai back into focus as the haze of closeness clears just enough for her to remember the world beyond his mouth, her gaze flicking toward the stove with an exaggerated sigh, as though the melting chocolate has committed a personal offence to what she suddenly wants most in this moment. (Which is of course, him).
Turning back with a crooked, conspiratorial smile, Flora lets her hands slide down to rest at Kai's shoulders. "Why don’t you finish making our drinks," her tone bright and teasing and a touch suggestive, "and I’ll go grab your birthday present?"
and I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this
