It's a shock of weed killer, a weed wacker taken to her heart. A thump that is hard to define, as eyes open, she takes him in like sunlight across the window pane. It's a surprise, one she can feel within every beat of her heart, every whirlwind inside, and yet there's something delicate about it, as if he is surprised too.
Zen started the kiss, and yet it can't be more than a few seconds long, a reaction to something unheard of, an impulse without the ability to think through it. It's different when he pulls back, like there are mountains of questions left between them, and her heart is still ricocheting in her chest, a little tap-tap rhythm that she can't calm or soothe in any capacity.
And his eyes whisper almost apologies across to her, an 'I don't regret kissing you, but I wish I'd asked first.' And it's strange how easily she can read his eyes; what has it been, but a few months of blue meeting green, of a new beginning, of friendship as bright as starlight. And she can't quite breathe past the gasp of her heartbeat, past the red blooming across her face, little lone vines of color.
Zen's breathless, not quite panicked, but breathless, as if he can't quite breathe past the kiss, and Shirayuki has no answer.
It's later, when answers slowly arrive as if gift wrapped, that a seed is planted. A little one, as Zen leans down, and Shirayuki leans up. And they are on the ground, but that doesn't matter when their lips meet. It doesn't matter that they are in the woods, because that if it did, made it so much better, like coming full circle at last.
While there is an impulse on both ends now, a surprising flame shared between them, it is also slow. As if two people only slowly came together, and it is here, where she feels as if Zen is gentle, not because he's surprised, but because he wants to be. He wants to be gentle and slow, wants to savor this moment like a million other moments will take them away, but they only have this one to share.
He is delicate, and she feels almost like a sproutling responding to warm touch, a chance of starting anew, and maybe a kiss isn't how that's done, but for a moment, it really is. For a moment, there is warmth and delight and slow lips trying to memorize a moment that if a lifetime swings by, would be a moment out of many, and still somehow memorable.
She can't quite breathe past the lump in her throat, and the way her heart screams, and yet Zen seems to understand. And when his lips meet hers, it's almost like the way he'd kissed her hand so long ago, a little, slow, reverent act of I admire you, I love you.
And the vines around her heart unravel for a second, and Shirayuki breathes Zen in so well, that pirates and kidnapping, and loneliness all melt away. Perhaps they will be back again one day, but in Zen's arms, with lips pressing close, she'll at least be stronger.
And maybe she should count the comfort as a silly thing, but she doesn't. Zen kisses her as if to say that she is strong, and that he'll be here for her anyway. That he loves her beyond even what she's imagined or thought for herself. It's as if he is her hidden pool of strength, the fertilizer that helps her grow.
And Shirayuki only knows when she pulls away and looks up into blue, blue eyes, that she is safe right here, right where she's at, and when Zen's hand slips into hers, she knows that he'll remain by her side no matter what comes their way.
This is a forest fire, a raging typhoon of emotion, and it's hard to breathe, because every breath is needed to anchor them together and up. And how can Shirayuki speak a promise, when she can kiss it here and now into being. How could words serve them well, if lips have other ways to whisper?
And Zen's lips against hers are so warm that they burn, and when his tongue brushes hers, Shirayuki melts under the blaze. It's hard to think, let alone try to tell him, I love you, I promise you, I'll be here. And it's not in comfort, but almost rebellion. And when Zen pulls away, Shirayuki's legs are so numb that she nearly topples over into him.
Especially when he places a gentle kiss on her neck, a little sign that he feels close to her too. And as she looks up at him, breathless but not for lack of meaning, she realizes just how much stretches out before them, and in a moment, it looks like they can climb this mountain together.
It's meant as more of a hello than anything more, but still when his lips touch hers, Shirayuki leans into them, trying to tell him I miss you, but it almost sounds like we were apart too long. And she doesn't know how to correct it when her fingers dig into his coat, and her lips follow his so urgently.
It's hard to keep up, but it's at a pace that feels like the fast side of natural. And Zen is all fire once again, and Shirayuki's only the woods, and when they pull apart with a gasp, Shirayuki wonders how they'll manage any time apart, if they keep meeting like this.
She's breathless, but so is Zen. And blue eyes are so dark right now, that they could be the night sky, and Shirayuki wonders if Zen notices the color of her eyes, if they are the dark forests that match his night. It's almost poetic, and for a second, she wants to laugh.
She doesn't, because that takes too much air, and besides poetry is almost perfect for a kiss or its after touch.
She doesn't think, and maybe that's why she practically jumps into his arms and meets his words with a kiss. She's electricity, a spark just released, and her kiss is a helium balloon floating, floating, floating.
But it was meant to be a hug or maybe a quick peck. But instead it's sloppy, and excited, and she's half-giggling into his lips. And perhaps she's ruined the proposal, but it's hard to think like that, when it hits her, that they will one day be married all over again.
It's hard to process. They've been dating for so many years now, stolen dates outside or inside palace grounds. Long distance letters that make the distance feel somewhat shorter if only for a moment. And it's a wonder that she can even breathe. And she knows, almost instinctually, that the moment, she pulls away, she will cry.
It's only then as she finally backs up to offer her hand for the ring, that she realizes that Zen was crying, not deliberately, and she isn't sure for a moment if her kiss was that bad or if she'd accidentally rejected him or if he's happy, though slowly a smile slips back on to his lips, and he tries to wipe away the still falling tears.
"I love you." And it's breathless, and Shirayuki can't help but repeat the words, like their own special love song, one that only needs three words to remain strong.
It's different tonight; there are crowds of people behind them. Some with tears in their eyes or even openly crying, some clapping like it's some kind of concert, and some just watching as if the world is about to explode up here on this altar. And it's a mess behind them, and Shirayuki can feel their eyes.
And yet, Zen lifts up her veil, and kisses her so tenderly, that she could remain up here for hours. It's nothing like their just got engaged kiss. It's slow, like a quiet stroll through the gardens, slow like he's drinking every second in, and can't wait for the next.
Every brush of his lips across hers sends an unexplainable amount of sparks throughout her whole body, and Shirayuki just clings to him, letting the kiss drag on for what could be centuries, though when they pull away, she catches her now brother-in-law's stare, and feels as if she just embarrassed Clarines in a few moments in time.
But Zen's hand is in hers, and he's smiling, and Shirayuki can't help smiling too. She feels treasured, priceless, beloved up here, and to step down from the altar is already saddening. It's as if kissing was perfect up here.
Her work is slow, slower than normal anyway, and she has some important political meetings with Zen in an hour, but yet, research doesn't do itself. And she wants to take a nap or go find their kids and spend time in the nursery or outside with them, but she has to write the last words down.
And then Zen walks in, and his gait is so slow, that he looks beyond exhausted, and Shirayuki pauses. One letter half formed on the page, and Zen finally walks up to her with a tired sigh. And he looks like he wants to escape, but there is still no escape even so.
And Shirayuki smiles, a little relieved to not be alone in her exhaustion, and Zen really looks at her, like he does so often, like she is all that he's ever dreamed of, the woman he's most longed to meet, the one he's already pledged his life to, and so much more.
When his fingers curl under her chin, Shirayuki relaxes and tilts her head up. And as familiar as a river in Spring time or a Sunflower leaning towards the sun, she and Zen kiss. It only lasts maybe five seconds, but even in so short a span, she feels sparks and a quiet I love you, worn a little at the edges with time, but still strong enough to last a whole lifetime or more.