Shirayuki is breathless, but what else do you expect when you're looking up into frosty eyes made smoother by the warmth emanating from them, the warmth that melts them down to size, that makes her heart flutter and expand, that makes her almost nervous. Izana has the unique power to turn any room to ice, but also the power to melt a room down under a gentle inferno that starts before you ever knew it could.
And his hand is gentle where it lifts up her chin, gentle as if by practice, and as she looks up into his eyes, the million questions of what comes next flutter to mind. Will he close the gap that suddenly seems too enormous between them, the gap that if she felt she could move forward, she'd close herself? Will this sudden gentleness, markedly placed next to strength, be the beginning of a kiss that could come next?
Will his breath as it blows across her lips not be the only thing that presses against them? It's as if an eternity has passed, when it's only really been another moment, and suddenly, very slowly he leans down, and the pressure of air against her lips increases in waves, and all she wants is to lean forward and kiss him, chase his lips down with her own.
And then there's a brush of pressure against them, a brush of something warm, warmer than breath on her lips. And Shirayuki leans into it; it's only really a margin closer that she leans, but his lips against hers are the perfect feeling to press into. Izana isn't the kind of man that she'd consider to be gentle in his affections, but the kind of man that wouldn't be openly affectionate at all. And yet, and yet, his lips flutter across hers and speak of a tenderness and a gentleness that is softer than butterfly wings.
He doesn't move to separate from her, doesn't draw back, but presses closer, himself, and that pressure on her lips is steady, and almost feels like it builds up rather than dwindles. And Shirayuki almost wonders if she could breathe him in, if she could clamor for more, and yet somehow she doesn't push, she doesn't fight back, but instead chooses to live in the moment.
Live where her lips tingle amid the warmth that flutters across them, live in the moment where her heart is burning a hole in her chest with it's clamor of affection meeting desire, live where Izana is the one who presses close and kisses her. That thought would be surreal enough to drown all thoughts from her mind, if his lips weren't already fulfilling that mission, if kissing him hadn't already swallowed up the rest of her thoughts.
Kissing Izana is like giving into being a pawn in a chess match, but also like becoming the queen. He kisses reverently almost, as if she is someone to be desired, someone to be deeply loved, and yet Izana is usually not one to display his emotions so clearly. Normally, he hides them within different masks, and the hiding of said emotions is the only way that she can come to feel like a pawn.
But when Izana feels, he feels deeply, when he chooses to show it, it is without barriers. Right now, it's as if Shirayuki holds so much power, so much regality, and it's impossible to breathe past the awe of the moment. Izana's lips move gently across hers, and it could have been hours that Shirayuki's lips have tingled, that her mind's gone blank instead of fuzzy, that her heart has beat at a tempo so rarely explored.
In a moment, he pulls away. And Shirayuki's eyes open, though she wishes she were brave enough to press close and give the king another kiss, this time of her own flint, her own beginnings. But as she works to regain her breath, all that consumes her mind is the desire that Izana would lean down and kiss her again, even though he looks not even a touch out of place, standing before her, as if he hadn't kissed her so lovingly that she might as well be a puddle at his feet.