[ The sound of her laughter, a soft thing, reverberates through him. A small shift of his hips has him realizing just how deeply they're still pressed together, and that neither of them have moved to break the connection yet. Tseng exhales, dragging his mouth over hers in a slow kiss. A lazy kind of indulgence settles in him, something not completely familiar. It's been a while for him, too. There's always something else to occupy his mind, something more immediate. That kind of focus has served him well, kept things simple and in order. There have been no noble outlets. It'd been unnecessary. Or perhaps, more truthfully, impossible.
He's certainly never thought about how it would feel to have her fingers in his hair, either. Now that she's doing it, though, idly twining strands between her fingers, smoothing them back only for them to fall across his back again, Tseng finds it difficult to think about anything else. Except for the fact that he's always watched her. Duty demanded he memorized the way Aerith smiles, the way her eyes flicker with mischief or steel. But he's never touched her, not with both hands on her. Tseng lifts his head. ]
Good morning. [ His dark eyes hold onto hers with an intent that feels different from the way he usually looks at her. His usually clipped tone has slipped away . ]
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He's certainly never thought about how it would feel to have her fingers in his hair, either. Now that she's doing it, though, idly twining strands between her fingers, smoothing them back only for them to fall across his back again, Tseng finds it difficult to think about anything else. Except for the fact that he's always watched her. Duty demanded he memorized the way Aerith smiles, the way her eyes flicker with mischief or steel. But he's never touched her, not with both hands on her. Tseng lifts his head. ]
Good morning. [ His dark eyes hold onto hers with an intent that feels different from the way he usually looks at her. His usually clipped tone has slipped away . ]