balancing on breaking branches

Maeve

It's such a relief not to be overwhelmed by pain. To feel like she's floating with heat swirling in her belly and his arms here to support her. Fingers curl delicately at her hips, taking great care not to hold her too tightly. Finally he manages to get out whatever words were sitting on the tip of his tongue and she can't help the smirk that curls at her lips as the press against his ear. "Am I? What exactly am I making difficult?" She hums sweetly, fingers dipping into the waist of his pants, teasing along his hip before they retreat to find his belt instead. With practiced ease and only a slight fumble she starts to work on undoing the buckle that holds it in place.

He nuzzles lightly at her cheek, thumbs brushing against her hips over her borrowed boxers turned shorts before he's drawing back to look at her with stormy eyes. Maeve tilts her head to the side as his nose brushes against hers and she dips her head to capture his lips in a chaste kiss that only lasts a moment. Her movements are lazy. The alcohol in her system slowing her down slightly as she draws back to look down at him. "Pauvre, bête." Maeve croons, huffing out a soft laugh as she arches a brow in return.

"Do you want to know what I'm saying? You tell me what yours means and I'll tell you mine." The Madame murmurs in return, waiting for his answer patiently even as her fingers continue to trace over skin.

Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips
We should just kiss like real people do