Fingers threaded in red hair, as if it were silk, and two pairs of eyes met each other in the middle, as if eager to test distance and see if it really were as far apart as it seems. And then two pairs of eyes close, as two people lean closer, two gusts of air against two different pairs of lips, soft and gentle, a pre-kiss shared just between them.
And then, finally their lips touch; hers tentatively testing with gentle pressure just how to let him know the way that her heart is beating and the quiet I love yous, that slip often unbidden out from between her lips, the little quiet ways, she voices how much she loves him. And his lips are gentle as a whisper against her skin, and finally, finally, he moves so tenderly with her, that it's as if her heart decided it needed a break or a reboot, and suddenly, she can't help but lean in.
Shirayuki chases those lips, presses close, a moment of leading in a mostly quiet following, and his lips against hers make her skin tingle, not just her lips, that seem to spark ever so gently at the touch, like an addicting electrical current that you long to chase, but rather her arms tingle for want of holding him close, pressing Zen so closely, that he might as well melt into her heart.
Her eyes are closed, and yet Shirayuki is filled up with him, with how close he is, the way he smells, so enchantingly him, soft and clean, strong and gentle, though not quite earthy. The way he feels beneath her touch; her hands rest along his sides, and he is lean, but not overly so, mostly though he's warm, so warm that she could lean in and every last ounce of coldness that has ever touched her will melt away.
And he's so, so close that she doesn't know how her heart is still beating in her chest and not his own, how her pulse races and jumps against her skin, as if eager to race out and become his heart, a beating horse within her chest, wild and free.
And Zen's touch is so gentle, just the way his fingers slip through her hair, the way he leans so close and yet is gentle, not forceful, not demanding, but so, so gentle that her heart despite it's beating, almost frantic pace, nearly preens at his tenderness.
And the spark from his lips to hers does not fade, instead it deepens like a brush against the wind, and she doesn't want to let go, even as air demands to fill up her lungs, to fill up his lungs, and they part for just another breath, eyes slowly, slowly opening, until they meet each other's gaze, as if a clock were stopped on just this moment alone.
And Shirayuki doesn't have words for this, but perhaps she never has had words for this moment, the times when she feels so close to Zen, where physically not much pulls them apart, but here, right now, she's breathing at the same breathless pace as Zen, a little awed, the way that she always feels after a kiss between them. And really, in a kiss, despite it's joy and it's closeness, she just longs to let Zen know how much she loves him. It's a gift from her to him, and it's so surreal that they are allowed to gift so many to each other.
And yet, after every kiss, she's still so breathless and happy and stunned. Still so flushed, not just because of the way each kiss makes her heart race or her body feel weightless, but how Zen looks at her, as if his whole world is right in front of him, as if she is the one person he looks most forward to seeing every day, day in and day out, and she, she, just hopes that her love is conveyed to him, that he knows that she feels the same way.
Even as breathlessly, they lean in together, that spark starting with only the air between them and growing as that air is pushed out of the way, and they move together. A kiss between them feels like a promise, feels like a whisper, a heartfelt I love you, even when everything around them moves at its own pace. For a moment, it is just Zen and Shirayuki, a spark shared and two race horse hearts, and the kind of joy that they've felt grow between them.
And even though, it is not time yet for endless kisses or the beautiful mornings of marriage, it is still time for quiet I love yous, and whispering hearts. Long lasting sparks that bring breathlessness back and awe that makes it stay, and Zen's lips against hers are still so gentle, still so loving, still so soft, that Shirayuki feels as if she is melting into his arms and perhaps he might be melting into her own.