His arms loop around her waist as if they belong there as if in some cruel reality that they have become two puzzle pieces trying to glue themselves together.
Akito knows enough to not want this, knows how they've always been by each other's sides, and knows that she's always forbid these feelings to grow into something real.
Her breath feels foggy as she presses closer yet no breath mists in front of her; it's still as hidden as a shadow in the night.
She feels Shigure's hands trace her waist in that all familiar way, knows that perhaps he knows her better than anyone else does though she tries to deny it with all that's left of her being; she can't ever deny him fully the way that she wants to.
Her eyes close, and his hands find just the right spot on her side to massage to make her feel as if she's relaxing into his touch.
Akito tries to hide her own frenzied heartbeats from herself, knows that even she can't hide them from him; she'd fallen for the dog, the kind of man that always seemed so impulsive yet wasn't.
It feels like a relief to know that she's tamed the writer; she knows that it's selfish to want his undivided attention, to just become all that he does, all that he sees, but she craves his touch like no other.
Akito sighs into the kiss like she can just forget the world and briefly wonder like she always does now why he always comes back to her.
She presses tighter into his embrace, and let's herself become a part of this moment more so than just a moment before; she knows that she's too far gone in love to let herself walk away.
Akito figures that she always was even though she hates the idea, and yet loves the pressure against her now, loves knowing that lately all he's ever gotten this close to was her, and that may be he'll let it always be her now.
She knows how this moment will drag on and yet leans into it for what she'll remember as just another incident in his arms and yet she loves what's quickly becoming normal between the two of them.