[ Neria does not push the kiss, does not deepen it, even as Cullen responds in kind. He pulls her closer until they are nearly flush with one another, hands still held tightly in each other's grip. She has not thought farther than this moment and hardly comprehends that she has initiated such an intimate gesture, though she does not regret it. No; she realizes she has wanted to kiss Cullen for a very long time and has been far too afraid to, far to uncertain of her own feelings. She wonders if this is wrong; even if their roles are equal, even if there is no propriety to maintain, she wonders if she seeks out this comfort, this need to be close to him, so that the guilt can stop strangling her for just a few moments.
But the way he holds her is so gentle, the press of his lips warm and inviting. He holds her as if she is a person, not an object, not a monster, and has given her the greatest peace she has had in nearly all of her life. Her heart feels as if it could burst - must burst, how can it still be beating when it feels so full? - with all she feels, and still she does not ask for more, does not push for more. If she does, her heart might crack wide open for all the world to see.
Instead, she relents, her face parting from his by mere inches. She is still close enough to feel his warm breath on his face, for their foreheads to still nearly touch, and she does not open her eyes. She does not breathe, terrified this moment will fall away and she will lose it forever. She does not open her eyes as she leans forward to kiss him again, another tender kiss that she wishes to steal before their reality comes back to them. She wants to remember this moment forever, to never forget the smell of the crushed grass in the night, or the way his hand feels on her back, or the feel of his lips.
This she wishes to remember no matter what tomorrow brings. ]
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But the way he holds her is so gentle, the press of his lips warm and inviting. He holds her as if she is a person, not an object, not a monster, and has given her the greatest peace she has had in nearly all of her life. Her heart feels as if it could burst - must burst, how can it still be beating when it feels so full? - with all she feels, and still she does not ask for more, does not push for more. If she does, her heart might crack wide open for all the world to see.
Instead, she relents, her face parting from his by mere inches. She is still close enough to feel his warm breath on his face, for their foreheads to still nearly touch, and she does not open her eyes. She does not breathe, terrified this moment will fall away and she will lose it forever. She does not open her eyes as she leans forward to kiss him again, another tender kiss that she wishes to steal before their reality comes back to them. She wants to remember this moment forever, to never forget the smell of the crushed grass in the night, or the way his hand feels on her back, or the feel of his lips.
This she wishes to remember no matter what tomorrow brings. ]