( mathias doesn't want this kiss to end, wants to feel milo's lips against his for as long as he possibly can, wants milo to press closer to him — and his mind races with all of the possibilities, ones that leave his cheeks pink and warm, and he is less shy about how he leans into the hand at his jaw once their lips finally do part now that the line of physical contact has been crossed. there's no turning back now.
lashes flutter closed, unfazed by those glittering flakes that have taken over the room, and a soft sound leaves him, something between a pleased hum and a whine, and it surprises even mat, not that he lets that show in his expression, plush of his lower lip curled into a natural hint of a pout that he isn't quite aware of. their faces are still close, close enough for mat's lips to brush against milo's as he sighs, tries to gather his thoughts without much avail.
nothing had ever felt so dangerous as those men pursuing them, but the knot in mathias's stomach right now screams otherwise, like the wind has been knocked out of him — and his heart is still pounding, now for entirely different reasons altogether. )
Milo — ( he murmurs, soft as ever as his palm accidentally drift from the belt loops of his pants up to the fabric of his shirt so his fingers can curl into the fabric of his shirt at his lower back, pull himself a little closer and cling to milo even more. the question that leaves his lips is asked with very little pretense, a shy request. ) Kiss me again? You don't have to ... be shy on my behalf — or restrained, or polite — Please ...
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sforzinda
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Date: 2019-03-14 01:49 am (UTC)lashes flutter closed, unfazed by those glittering flakes that have taken over the room, and a soft sound leaves him, something between a pleased hum and a whine, and it surprises even mat, not that he lets that show in his expression, plush of his lower lip curled into a natural hint of a pout that he isn't quite aware of. their faces are still close, close enough for mat's lips to brush against milo's as he sighs, tries to gather his thoughts without much avail.
nothing had ever felt so dangerous as those men pursuing them, but the knot in mathias's stomach right now screams otherwise, like the wind has been knocked out of him — and his heart is still pounding, now for entirely different reasons altogether. )
Milo — ( he murmurs, soft as ever as his palm accidentally drift from the belt loops of his pants up to the fabric of his shirt so his fingers can curl into the fabric of his shirt at his lower back, pull himself a little closer and cling to milo even more. the question that leaves his lips is asked with very little pretense, a shy request. ) Kiss me again? You don't have to ... be shy on my behalf — or restrained, or polite — Please ...