[ aerith is right: tseng has only ever put his hands on her to make her do something she doesn't want to do, or go somewhere she doesn't want to go. but as she takes hold of his wrist to shift his grip from hesitant to tender, more affectionate, tseng thinks that this is the first time he's ever touched her skin.
she's warm. warm, and soft, and she smells like the garden in the yard of the house in the sector 5 slums, sweet and inviting. ]
I don't blush. [ tseng lifts his other hand and brushes a strand of hair back out of aerith's face, tucks it behind her ear. traces his fingertips along the shape of it while he's there, the delicate shell. he's never done anything by half-measures, after all.
leaning down so that their faces are almost touching, tseng brings his lips close to her ear—his mouth obscured, pressed to her cheekbone so the paintings can neither see nor hear him—and whispers, ] Stop me if I go too far.
[ no fair, we can't hear you! one of the ladies in the painting complains, but tseng is already moving, careful and slow as he walks aerith back across the elevator, as he presses her back against the wall and crowds her there with his larger frame. his hand is still pressed to her cheek, and his other hand comes to rest at the juncture where her shoulder meets her throat, his fingers curling loosely around the back of her neck.
he doesn't kiss her, but it would be obvious even to the blind that he's about to. ]
no subject
she's warm. warm, and soft, and she smells like the garden in the yard of the house in the sector 5 slums, sweet and inviting. ]
I don't blush. [ tseng lifts his other hand and brushes a strand of hair back out of aerith's face, tucks it behind her ear. traces his fingertips along the shape of it while he's there, the delicate shell. he's never done anything by half-measures, after all.
leaning down so that their faces are almost touching, tseng brings his lips close to her ear—his mouth obscured, pressed to her cheekbone so the paintings can neither see nor hear him—and whispers, ] Stop me if I go too far.
[ no fair, we can't hear you! one of the ladies in the painting complains, but tseng is already moving, careful and slow as he walks aerith back across the elevator, as he presses her back against the wall and crowds her there with his larger frame. his hand is still pressed to her cheek, and his other hand comes to rest at the juncture where her shoulder meets her throat, his fingers curling loosely around the back of her neck.
he doesn't kiss her, but it would be obvious even to the blind that he's about to. ]