Hannah was always a champion at panicking. It was almost a talent of hers, the ability to unhinge in a moment's notice. And when Neville's lips landed on hers, her brain spun madly: this was wrong. She had just broken up with Anton, they had just ended, she wasn't even speaking to her closest family over it, she was lonely and a part of her knew how badly she didn't want to be alone no matter who reached out to her which made this even more wrong which made her a bad person and she was a bad person--
--because she loved it. And not just because of the lonely thing, because of course she had always wondered about Neville, gentle yet strong and sweeter than honey but steely, plant-loving Neville, because just because she was in a relationship for so long didn't mean she was dead, of course she had wondered and wondered and it was so easy to be so loyal to him and wondered...and now all of her wondering was right: it was just like she had thought. It was just as perfect as she thought.
Bad person. Bad bad person. Because she pulled her hands from his and put one on his chest, and the other on his neck and opened her lips for him and suddenly her panic and her brain just...stopped.