[ It's a good look for him. Red. Glasses shoved on top of his disheveled hair.
But then his fingertips brush against his skin, and her own hands lift, pressing her palms against his cheeks now that he can finally feel the heat from them and the way her fingers trace soft lines over his cheekbones. It's hard to focus on much else beyond the desire to feel him, to let him reaffirm as much as he wants that she's here and she doesn't want to stop kissing him.
Which she's at least demonstrating now, letting her back thunk against the unforgiving wall and tipping her chin up to willingly return to kiss #2. ]
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But then his fingertips brush against his skin, and her own hands lift, pressing her palms against his cheeks now that he can finally feel the heat from them and the way her fingers trace soft lines over his cheekbones. It's hard to focus on much else beyond the desire to feel him, to let him reaffirm as much as he wants that she's here and she doesn't want to stop kissing him.
Which she's at least demonstrating now, letting her back thunk against the unforgiving wall and tipping her chin up to willingly return to kiss #2. ]