Her eyes dilate his close. Slowly she lets herself fall into his arms, and he is thankful the wall is there holding them both up. He tasted the chocolate from her lips, and for some reason it was better than any other pie he had ever had. She thought it irrational to say that someone melted in someone else's arms, for that to be pleasurable she didn't understand. It was the first time she had been kissed and been happy, not only satisfied or anticipating but actually happy. The edge of her lips curled up, before allowing him entrance to her mouth. He had finally persuaded her to try pie, even if it was chocolate mousse and not apple or cherry or any other of his use to be favorites. He had determined, as they were standing by the door at the end of the night that if she was ready to try pie maybe she was ready to commit to him. She had determined, as she was eating the pie, that to receive you must first give, or so he taught her. So she gave him the pleasure of pie and he received a kiss. Or at least that's what she had thought. Neither knew who truly started the kiss; they would bicker about it for years.