[This is good, this is better than he'd hoped for, and the fact that she's not turning him away means more to him than he can possibly articulate -- not that he's articulating much of anything at the moment, not with her pressed close like this, underneath him and so soft and yielding.
There's a moment where that's all it is, a blissfully perfect kiss, something that he's been looking for for a long time and never quite been able to find, or maybe he's just never been satisfied with anything because he's always looking for something better, always trying to convince himself that there's someone perfect out there, someone who will love him just as much as he loves them... Those thoughts come back to his mind, even when he tries to block them out, even when he's running a hand down Daisy's face, feeling the softness of her skin, the warmth of her body and of her lips, and...
His fingers find something on her cheeks that isn't just the delicate skin, that isn't just the curve of her cheekbone. Those are tears, aren't they? And he's not the type of man to ignore tears, not when they can have so much meaning, not when they're being shed at a moment like this, which should be only pleasurable, not painful. He draws back, for a moment, meeting her eyes with his own intent, deep blue stare.]
What is it?
[And there, maybe, is some romance in his tone. There, maybe, is something soft, almost adoring. It's not the tone of someone who is here simply opportunistically. If listened to just the right way, it could almost sound like love, but that's ridiculous, isn't it? There's no way he could fall in love with someone so fast. And yet... He's been known to believe he has before.]
no subject
There's a moment where that's all it is, a blissfully perfect kiss, something that he's been looking for for a long time and never quite been able to find, or maybe he's just never been satisfied with anything because he's always looking for something better, always trying to convince himself that there's someone perfect out there, someone who will love him just as much as he loves them... Those thoughts come back to his mind, even when he tries to block them out, even when he's running a hand down Daisy's face, feeling the softness of her skin, the warmth of her body and of her lips, and...
His fingers find something on her cheeks that isn't just the delicate skin, that isn't just the curve of her cheekbone. Those are tears, aren't they? And he's not the type of man to ignore tears, not when they can have so much meaning, not when they're being shed at a moment like this, which should be only pleasurable, not painful. He draws back, for a moment, meeting her eyes with his own intent, deep blue stare.]
What is it?
[And there, maybe, is some romance in his tone. There, maybe, is something soft, almost adoring. It's not the tone of someone who is here simply opportunistically. If listened to just the right way, it could almost sound like love, but that's ridiculous, isn't it? There's no way he could fall in love with someone so fast. And yet... He's been known to believe he has before.]