Oliver had done his fair share of kissing, and everything else, too... hell, even more than he told anyone about. But it had been a while since he'd taken the time to think about kissing anyone, certainly not more than in the heat of the moment. He liked Emma, and he couldn't help recalling what his cousin Rose had said, about mushy feelings and feeling warm inside... or something.
A little smile slipped over his lips at the sound she made, and his grip only tightened when she wobbled and pulled away. He opened his eyes and leaned forward to press his forehead against hers. He shifted his thumb towards her lip, stroking the corner of her mouth until she let go of her lip, and then he slid his thumb over it once, just barely. "So ye do like me then," he said pleasantly, Scottish brogue still with emotion and drink. The little smile hadn't faded at all, and perhaps was even turning into a small grin.