For just one perfect moment, the world around them fell away and nothing else mattered. If Violeta was surprised she did not have time to show it, her witty response about friction cut short when he pulled her into a rare, public embrace. Such a gesture was a luxury; she curled her fingers around the lapels of his jacket and parted her lips for him, her heart drumming a strong, joyous rhythm against her chest. Her whole body tingled, a sensation that made her feel light and giddy, like she might float up to the mid-winter night if she let go.
Dante made brazen use of his hands to keep her anchored.
A gasp broke her away from the kiss, her eyes wide. Then she saw the encouraging elderly couple and she could not help the blooms of scarlet spreading hotly across her cheeks. She did not usually blush this deeply, but every now and then he drew it out of her. Her face pinched with admonishment, followed by a breathless, incredulous laugh. Whatever verbal rebuke she had forming immediately waned when he spoke, his somber display of self-awareness bringing her own look to soften. She knew that once the alcohol ran its course, this was it.
He would close this part of himself off again and probably deny that any of it happened at all.
"I am," she sighed crestfallen, though smiled truthfully in spite of that. She held his face, brushing her thumbs over her cheeks before bringing her arms around his neck, pulling him into another kiss, murmuring against his lips. "I enjoy all of you."