Re: In-person: Cris/Sam
[His fingers, after he reels her close, feel like fucking heaven against the small of her back. She looks up at him, chin tipped, to tell him so, but he's close, yeah? And spit paints his lips in shine, and she lifts a finger and drags it through wet and presses it just a little into his mouth.
Then he smiles, and that finger drops just below his lower lip, to his chin. He cocks his head, and she smiles like a fucking lovesick dope. But he's talking important, and she pays attention, yeah? She drags herself back from the haze of how pretty she thinks he is, and she swallows hard and listens.] It's not the same- [Is all she manages before he kisses her, and she's not strong enough to draw back and keep that kiss nothing. She's parted lip offering, mouth wet and tongue pink, and she kisses him hard as soon as his tongue shoves past her lips. If she could unhinge her jaw for him, she fucking would, and she only manages to pull away when his hand rests between them, like the distraction reminds her or something.] It's not the same- [Like an interrupted recording.] Ian was weeks, papi. Micah was ONE NIGHT. You're talking years, yeah? And you were just a baby. Don't minimize your shit. I won't.