I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings
Flora flows over Kai with an ease that feels instinctive rather than deliberate, her knees settling astride his hips as her weight finds him fully, her body perched over his waist in a way that makes the closeness feel bound by some increase in gravity. She leans forward, the pom-poms of her hat dangling as she slips her fingers beneath the hem of his heather-brown shirt, drawing the fabric upward in a slow, unhurried motion that gathers both it and his scarf until she can tug them free over his head. Her breath is uneven when she does it, a little quick and a little shy despite herself, and once his skin is bare beneath her hands she lets her fingers wander upward again, tracing the familiar and warm lines of his muscle despite how intimately she knows these hills and valleys.
When his hands work at the lace at her hip, and the red fabric gives with a soft, yielding sound, anticipation snaps bright inside her, heat coiling low and sharp. Her breath stutters when she leans closer, not because she is unsure but because being this near him makes everything inside her tighten all at once, heat and memory colliding in a way that leaves no room for distance. Her hips roll faintly as she settles more fully over him, the lace over her breasts brushing his skin first on purpose. One arm stays braced beside his head, keeping her weight poised and deliberate, while the other slides closer, fingers spreading against the bed.
"It was almost a year ago that we were here for the first time," she says quietly, the words pulled from her with effort rather than ease, her voice low and husky with the way the moment presses in around them. Her mouth curves into a small, almost disbelieving smile as she shakes her head, pom-poms brushing the sides of his face when she does, her gaze never leaving his. "And when I kissed you...I never thought it would turn into this."
She leans closer as she speaks, close enough that her breath ghosts across his lips, close enough for every word to land heavy and intimate between them. "That night," she continues, slower now, her voice catching just slightly despite herself, "when I could hear you falling asleep, when your voice kept softening and drifting like you were already halfway gone talking about staying up all night to watch starwhales..." Her lips hover just shy of his, temptation drawn tight and humming. "I couldn't let myself fall asleep. Not when I wanted to kiss you so badly."
The confession hangs between them, charged and vulnerable and aching, and she does not give him time to respond before she closes the distance. Her lips find his, the kiss deep and lingering, built from the tension borne of their mishap above deck and the relief that despite a clumsy start almost a year before in this very bed, they were here together, stronger and better than ever. Her body presses into his as the kiss unfolds, heat and memory threading together until the past ache dissolves completely into the certainty of the present, the way they fit now undeniable and consuming.
When his hands work at the lace at her hip, and the red fabric gives with a soft, yielding sound, anticipation snaps bright inside her, heat coiling low and sharp. Her breath stutters when she leans closer, not because she is unsure but because being this near him makes everything inside her tighten all at once, heat and memory colliding in a way that leaves no room for distance. Her hips roll faintly as she settles more fully over him, the lace over her breasts brushing his skin first on purpose. One arm stays braced beside his head, keeping her weight poised and deliberate, while the other slides closer, fingers spreading against the bed.
"It was almost a year ago that we were here for the first time," she says quietly, the words pulled from her with effort rather than ease, her voice low and husky with the way the moment presses in around them. Her mouth curves into a small, almost disbelieving smile as she shakes her head, pom-poms brushing the sides of his face when she does, her gaze never leaving his. "And when I kissed you...I never thought it would turn into this."
She leans closer as she speaks, close enough that her breath ghosts across his lips, close enough for every word to land heavy and intimate between them. "That night," she continues, slower now, her voice catching just slightly despite herself, "when I could hear you falling asleep, when your voice kept softening and drifting like you were already halfway gone talking about staying up all night to watch starwhales..." Her lips hover just shy of his, temptation drawn tight and humming. "I couldn't let myself fall asleep. Not when I wanted to kiss you so badly."
The confession hangs between them, charged and vulnerable and aching, and she does not give him time to respond before she closes the distance. Her lips find his, the kiss deep and lingering, built from the tension borne of their mishap above deck and the relief that despite a clumsy start almost a year before in this very bed, they were here together, stronger and better than ever. Her body presses into his as the kiss unfolds, heat and memory threading together until the past ache dissolves completely into the certainty of the present, the way they fit now undeniable and consuming.
and I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this
