It's a slow kiss, a sweet kiss, without wandering hands or tongue. He just kisses me a little, lip-to-lip, then pulls away and searches my face for—disgust? Regret? I don't know, but it's not there.
I touch his cheek and crane my neck until my lips meet his again. Our lips glide over each other for a minute or two, then he slides his tongue along my bottom lip until my mouth opens and then we're really kissing. He tangles his fingers in my hair, twisting and pulling me closer. I curl my hands around the collar of his shirt, keeping his lips on mine, ensuring he doesn't break the kiss.
"Stephanie," he breathes into my mouth, brushing his thumb over my cheek and then releasing my lips to kiss my cheek. "We should stop."
I smile widely, wide enough for me to be concerned with my face splitting in half or something, and his eyes—already softer than I thought possible—soften even further as he grabs my hand. He brings my knuckles to his lips and kisses them gently, just as Lois shoves her way out of the house and clambers into the car.
"Alright, where to?"
I don't hear what Noah's response is because I'm very busy replaying We should stop over and over in my head. He didn't slip his hands under my shirt, even though I would've definitely let him; he didn't guide my hands under his shirt, letting me feel his abs—he just kissed me.
Warmly, sweetly, nicely.
a/n: i love writing kissing scenes so much (except i overuse pull and lips) but seriously yayyyy
YOU ARE READING
comfort {complete}
Short Storyin which a victim of rape recovers, with the help of a snarky pair of siblings//spinoff of Warmth//#335 in short story (well, it USED to be; i'm not bitter, don't worry) (jk, super bitter) TRIGGER WARNING FOR RAPE, please don't read this if it's gon...
