Even now Michael is only slightly taller than Lee, but it's an interesting change. He doesn't mind being shorter than her—likes the feeling, honestly, of being held so completely, and of her going on beyond him—but there's something to be said for the way his arms fit so nicely over her shoulders like this, and for the way he can pull her in so easily. He can rest the weight of his forehead against hers, gravity pressing them together.
The kiss doesn't deepen much, becoming close and careful instead. Michael's turning it over and over in his head, the fact that she's here. It makes him feel different. Or maybe the same, except more. There's probably a word for it. If he made an ad out of this, what would it say? He tries to think of a tagline for paper bags, but Lee is too distracting. His chair is going to smell like her all night. He sighs again.