Give me more soft kisses, lips barely touching, just chaste little things that leave both parties irrationally breathless.

It's almost too much to bear, sitting this close to him, in some sort of tense limbo. They stare each other down, eyes not straying from one another, not challenging or cautious, more tentative and unsure. Their knees press together on the couch where they're sitting, in the dimly lit living room of his latest safe house, where dusk fell quietly around them and left them suspended in this timid twilight.

Slowly, barely daring to breath, not taking her eyes off him, Liz moves her hand forward to lightly ghost her fingers over the back of his hand, resting on his knee inches away from her. She hears his slight intake of breath, sees his mouth open in surprise, as close as she is, and she revels in it.

It takes him a moment, a scared moment for Liz, waiting anxiously, but it isn't too long before she feels rather than sees Red's hand inch forward to brush her knee, and with that light touch, she knows she's not in this alone.

(She never was.)

And it's that thought that gives her courage enough to inch her head forward, leaving her hands to rest, their job done, and move her eyes to his lips. He follows suit, advancing at the same rate she is, slowly, achingly slow, as they get closer, until their lips finally brush. It is a soft, dry thing, barely there, and yet it is enough for a first kiss.

They pause, not moving away but not moving any closer as they consider each other in silence. Liz sees a gleam in Red's eyes, something she can interpret easily and, oddly enough, feel reflected in herself, and it brings a flush to her cheeks. She felt something when their lips touched, something unfamiliar but very welcome, nothing jolting, not a shock or a spark. More like a smolder, warm embers starting to glow somewhere inside her.

Red examines her in turn and soon his eyes stray down to her lips, gazing at them in something akin to longing and it's enough for Liz. She reaches out and kisses him again, keeping her eyes wide open, too enthralled by his face to stop looking quite yet as they share gentle, sipping kisses, Liz feeling as though he's stealing her very breath, something she willingly gives to him. She watches his eyes drift shut, an action seemingly beyond his control. And as lips caress hers, so warm and persuading, she can't help her own eyes starting to slip shut from the sensation, only one thought resounding clearly in her head.

(This is right.)