Re: Hannah & Jeremiah; Jester's Court
She didn't have any regrets yet. Maybe if she did what she should and when she should, and if she did those things more often, she would have regrets, but she didn't have any yet. She said what she thought, and she did what she felt, and she hadn't yet really learned to be polite or cautious yet. She had experienced hurt, and she'd experienced it quite often and as herself, and she had experienced it long after Marcus and all the terrible things with him. Repose hurt. A lot of the times, Repose hurt, and she tried not to think about it. But here, standing with him, she let her mind wander over names and people, and she really did need to talk to some people she hadn't talked to in a while. She would, she told herself, and she meant it, and she smiled a little absently when he first tilted her chin. It was only for a moment, and then she focused on him and her smile became a warm and genuine thing, blossoming into bloom like flowers in Spring.
"I like thinking that's true," she said of being seen, but she also wondered how anyone could really and truly see her when she didn't even know what she was. It reminded her of how badly she wanted to find the files about her past, but the thought was a flicker-blink, and then she was entirely engrossed in listening to him. "Do you think the snapshot changes? I think romance novels are what you say, that they're a moment and completeness in that moment, but I think they tend to be a snapshot of the best we are, and I don't think we're always the best. I think that believing that, that believing anyone is only their good parts, is the same as not seeing them at all." She sighed softly. "I want to see the afters. Can you write an after?" she asked him, having complete faith that he could, in fact, write an after and have it being meaningful and true, and maybe then she could finally believe it.
She willingly tipped her head for the kiss, and she leaned into him when he pulled. Her hands moved up, up, along bicep, to shoulders, to fingers twining in the long ends of his hair, and she kissed him back with parted lips and warmth, hips pressed softly against his and this consuming need to be desired. She strove to be more than her programming, and she really, really believed she was, and moments like this always left her wondering if she managed it, if this was true, and she was never sure. But she did know that she liked it, the pressure of his lips as she opened her mouth beneath them, and she was a little dizzy when she broke for air. She laughed a soft laugh, and her voice was whisper-intimate. "What will our citizens think?" she asked glancing at the shades and all smiles, and then looking back at him.