[ He blinks as she bumps against the table, in a floating helium balloon sort of way. Wonders what dish she'd been trying to reach across the table, then realizes: Oh. She'd wanted to kiss him. There is a flinch of guilt, a quiet zing of self-reproach. He's been so caught up in his own life, the transitions and transformations, that he hasn't taken into account the full weight of her loneliness, the changes in her life and her body that she cannot control, can only endure as a natural force, like foul weather or a disease. Not something that can be reasoned with or negotiated with or otherwise influenced, but rather something that can only be ridden out. ]
[ His hands descend slowly back into his lap. When he regards her, it's clear-eyed, self-contained, as if he's contemplating how to slide out a move from the line of pawns and distractions arrayed between them, a weak proxy for an apology or simply an excuse. But there's no need. Instead, palms still splayed across his knees, he leans in. His warm breath feathers across her face, a beat before his top lips brushes hers, bottom lip fitted against her bottom lip. He inhales the scent of something, complex and fermented and hormonal, but still so much like home. ]
[ Tenderness and want catch like barbs in his throat. In the next moment, he is kissing her -- soft and openmouthed and hungry, the press of his fingertips against her neck as he shifts his weight, close enough for their knees to overlap and wedge together. ]
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Date: 2015-03-03 09:30 pm (UTC)[ His hands descend slowly back into his lap. When he regards her, it's clear-eyed, self-contained, as if he's contemplating how to slide out a move from the line of pawns and distractions arrayed between them, a weak proxy for an apology or simply an excuse. But there's no need. Instead, palms still splayed across his knees, he leans in. His warm breath feathers across her face, a beat before his top lips brushes hers, bottom lip fitted against her bottom lip. He inhales the scent of something, complex and fermented and hormonal, but still so much like home. ]
[ Tenderness and want catch like barbs in his throat. In the next moment, he is kissing her -- soft and openmouthed and hungry, the press of his fingertips against her neck as he shifts his weight, close enough for their knees to overlap and wedge together. ]