[There was no pulling, nothing sharp or dreadfully desperate, no surge forward, quick and frightened, not this time. Just a hand tracing up Ardyn's neck, resting along his jaw, a tilt of his head, a closing of the gap. Church would argue that there's nothing soft about himself, but here he is, proving himself wrong again.
Nothing so lustful or sordid, not a playful challenge, not need or want or the awful attempt at expressing himself. No, all he wants to impress upon Ardyn with this kiss is...too much to put into words, but something that they're avoiding, something even now they're dancing around.
Please.]
Since when have I ever given you the impression that I wanted you to stop?
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Nothing so lustful or sordid, not a playful challenge, not need or want or the awful attempt at expressing himself. No, all he wants to impress upon Ardyn with this kiss is...too much to put into words, but something that they're avoiding, something even now they're dancing around.
Please.]
Since when have I ever given you the impression that I wanted you to stop?