[The corners of her mouth flick upwards. This was the third time, perhaps, that he asked her feelings. The words she offered hadn't been sufficient, and perhaps they would make no more sense to him now.]
[Lacus' fingers trace over Lockon's cheek, up the line of his jaw until her palm cradles his cheek. Leaning forward, her hair brushes him, the fringe of her bangs brushes his forehead and the cascade of hair that falls over her shoulder and rests on his arm. She tilts her head, the tips of their noses brushing before she nuzzles down the side of his. The press of her lips against his is soft, gentle, but not hesitant, lingering just too long to be mistaken for merely friendly.]
[And yet she won't let it linger long enough to pressure him, and so Lacus pulls back to her previous position; still close, but not quite as much, a breath escaping her as she does so. She looks at him with honest eyes, expecting nothing in return, just happy that she would show him her feelings properly.]