Jazz blows on the skin under his lips, as if he wanted to only disturb and not extinguish a candle's flame. He paints a picture of air while feeling Midvalley press closer.
Now it seems to him as if there is nothing more seperating them than those few air molecules between them. That and their quite elaborate clothes, of course.
One of his hands wanders towards Midvalley's shirt and tries to losen it.