[ Cullen finds a renewed sense of self, of energy, when their kiss deepens. Such a gesture brings more life into his weary bones, and he feels guilty for wanting more. But Neria's presence alone was already enough to ease some of his aches. He shivers at the feeling of her tongue so gently brushing along his lip, allowing his tongue to meet hers where they briefly entangle. The passion and care that she carries throughout the gesture is absolutely not lost on him, and Cullen uses whatever energy left in him to return it. ]

[ He loves her. There is absolutely no debate or wonder about it, though the definition between them is still unspoken. Cullen may strive to follow traditional values, but he worries speaking would risk what they have or cause things to take a turn for the awkward. But there is absolutely no denying himself about the strength of his feelings for her. Whatever energy within him is ushered for this moment, where his arms work to wrap around her and he scoots forward yet again. Cullen revels in the way his heart pounds and his entire body feels as if it is ablaze in a hot fire, the warmth comforting. A piece of her hair tickles at his cheek, her breath filling him where he remembers that he is here. He is here and alive and so is she. Even the voices that plague his mind are silenced in the face of such closeness. ]

[ But he has to come up for air eventually, and Cullen eventually breaks the kiss with great reluctance. He gasps against her lips, forehead still glued to hers. ]

Maker, I--

[ Words. He wishes to avoid them, but such a desire is futile. Cullen's eyes remain shut, and he hesitates a moment. He grasps her arms and allows his palms to brush down them and back to her hands, where he holds them tightly yet again. ]

Will you...

Would you stay with me? Tonight, I...

I can't bear the thought of being away from you. Not now.