Re: Edge of a rooftop; defying gravity/scaring himself
There were an infinite number of things that could be said, some better than others. Some wiser, some cleverer. Some coaxing, some crude. But, the two of them would have to pause and break apart to even begin. So, let's not begin. Let's continue. Let's let the hat fall, flutter away and down, the color of a big bat wing. Then, let's press closer. Fiyero had never lacked for courage. Foresight? Yes. Brains? Maybe. Depth? Some said so. But, courage? She parted her lips and he didn't hesitate.
If nothing else, he tasted like ash and cigarettes. His tongue met hers, ran along it as his freed hand joined its twin at the hollow of her back, where black dress melted into shadow. It was all still a dance, the steps had simply changed. Fiyero moved to the music still, but only out of habit. He was focused on the green girl, on how she tasted, smelled, felt, how he knew her even when he didn't. It was him who tipped his head this time, bristles likely burning along her chin. Forget words, he needed to stop to breathe, but he didn't dare. He didn't want to break the spell and he didn't want to stop.