It's so nice, being kissed.
La'an finds her skin, her cheeks, her forehead, the back of her neck, soft and warm, a gentleness that makes Chapel press closer, closer, tangling into her hair, curling into silk until they're one breath, one motion, almost close enough, never quite merging. Next time. It's never over.
Chapel lingers, feathers her temples, her cheekbones, the dip between her brows, as if she's precious, as if it matters, being gentle, being kind, pressing close enough to be her, never asking anything, fierce and soft and open with her message; I love you, here's inexhaustible proof.