[She traces one corner of that smile with her thumb, her touch gentle and curious, like she's seeing him for the first time ever, instead of being so used to him that she knows where all his freckles are. Speaking of, inevitably that's where her fingers travel next, to skitter over the freckles across his nose, the secret constellations that fascinate her so much.
She wants. It's visible, written in the way she looks at him and in the grip she still has on his hair and around his waist. Not for the first time, she's glad she made that deal, got her leg back; it would've been a loss to not be able to hold him close like this.
She lifts her head and kisses him, her thumb pressed to the center of his bottom lip. It's soft and brief, and then it isn't. Then, she pulls her fingers away and licks at the seam of his lips and whispers,] I want - [right before slanting her mouth against his.]
no subject
She wants. It's visible, written in the way she looks at him and in the grip she still has on his hair and around his waist. Not for the first time, she's glad she made that deal, got her leg back; it would've been a loss to not be able to hold him close like this.
She lifts her head and kisses him, her thumb pressed to the center of his bottom lip. It's soft and brief, and then it isn't. Then, she pulls her fingers away and licks at the seam of his lips and whispers,] I want - [right before slanting her mouth against his.]