Need a hundred lifetimes kinda love
The emphasis of his name is a risk he's more than willing to take, although sometimes it is a gamble as to what depth of retaliation he might get, not that Flora could ever be fairly accused of escalating something disproportionately. This one though, it's the sort that lingers well after she's sashayed her way out of range and view, causing him to shake his head as the smile keeps tugging into place with the fresh memory.
While Flora is contemplating scars and tans, Kaisel is blissfully replicating chocolate perfection. Two fresh mugs are filled with the piping-hot melted chocolate and quickly warmed milk, steam rising in a rapid squiggle of warning. The mugs are the adorably matching set that has a ceramic gap between them, which forms a completed heart when they're pushed together juuuuust right, which they presently are. He then piles on the whipped cream, corkscrewing it up into a puffy mountain that he interrupts every so often to layer with fudge drizzle and sprinkle dust. The finishing touch is the candy cane stir stick he sinks into each one, which is just about when he catches some bright presence in his peripheral.
He glances over from his exaggerated lean over the counter, adding a finishing touch to the mugs but not wanting to bump the presentation. The moment he sees her, he freezes, the extended pose held unexpectedly, his jaw the only thing in motion as it pops open. It's only when she begins to come closer that he finds motor function again and straightens out, gaze marking every stride and the shifting of the bright red fabric barely holding her in behind it.
His expression remains firmly in the range of reverent awe, but as she extends the lace-wrapped box toward him, it shifts into something warmer and fuller. There's no hungry urgency or uncertain fumbling, instead he's wholly claimed by the deep affection he has for her. It's there in the shine of his gaze which sweeps across her, in the smile that's undeniable when she's near, and the way his pulse quickens with a flush of appreciation that she's done this, for him. The box barely registers for the time being, not when she's wholly captivated him, so he doesn't take it yet. "I see that," he grins, and with a sure and fluid maneuver, his hands sweep around her offered wrist and against her waist.
He draws her in against him in one smooth motion, removing the remaining distance. Then he steps, turning her with him, momentum carrying them across the floor as he dips her low in an effortless sweep. It’s careful despite the decisiveness of it, one arm solid at her back, the other sliding down her arm and curling beneath her shoulders. For a heartbeat he just holds her there, face lingering near her shoulder, her collarbone, breath stuttering as the faint sweetness of strawberry settles fully into his senses. "Gods," he murmurs, the word slipping out on a breath that sounds stolen. His nose brushes lightly against her, unhurried and intimate as it drags across the fine layer of lace that keeps him from her skin. A smile curves wide and helpless against the red pattern as he whispers, “You smell…delicious.”
While Flora is contemplating scars and tans, Kaisel is blissfully replicating chocolate perfection. Two fresh mugs are filled with the piping-hot melted chocolate and quickly warmed milk, steam rising in a rapid squiggle of warning. The mugs are the adorably matching set that has a ceramic gap between them, which forms a completed heart when they're pushed together juuuuust right, which they presently are. He then piles on the whipped cream, corkscrewing it up into a puffy mountain that he interrupts every so often to layer with fudge drizzle and sprinkle dust. The finishing touch is the candy cane stir stick he sinks into each one, which is just about when he catches some bright presence in his peripheral.
He glances over from his exaggerated lean over the counter, adding a finishing touch to the mugs but not wanting to bump the presentation. The moment he sees her, he freezes, the extended pose held unexpectedly, his jaw the only thing in motion as it pops open. It's only when she begins to come closer that he finds motor function again and straightens out, gaze marking every stride and the shifting of the bright red fabric barely holding her in behind it.
His expression remains firmly in the range of reverent awe, but as she extends the lace-wrapped box toward him, it shifts into something warmer and fuller. There's no hungry urgency or uncertain fumbling, instead he's wholly claimed by the deep affection he has for her. It's there in the shine of his gaze which sweeps across her, in the smile that's undeniable when she's near, and the way his pulse quickens with a flush of appreciation that she's done this, for him. The box barely registers for the time being, not when she's wholly captivated him, so he doesn't take it yet. "I see that," he grins, and with a sure and fluid maneuver, his hands sweep around her offered wrist and against her waist.
He draws her in against him in one smooth motion, removing the remaining distance. Then he steps, turning her with him, momentum carrying them across the floor as he dips her low in an effortless sweep. It’s careful despite the decisiveness of it, one arm solid at her back, the other sliding down her arm and curling beneath her shoulders. For a heartbeat he just holds her there, face lingering near her shoulder, her collarbone, breath stuttering as the faint sweetness of strawberry settles fully into his senses. "Gods," he murmurs, the word slipping out on a breath that sounds stolen. His nose brushes lightly against her, unhurried and intimate as it drags across the fine layer of lace that keeps him from her skin. A smile curves wide and helpless against the red pattern as he whispers, “You smell…delicious.”
Kaisel
I could say forever, but forever ain't long enough
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
