All of Michael's considerably flighty attention is on Lee by the time she separates them. It takes him a moment to realize what she's doing, and in this moment he leans forward reflexively, following her across the short distance she's created. His forehead touches hers, his nose touches her cheek, and then he makes a forlorn sound and sags against her. Message received. Idly, he wonders how much room there is under the desk, but supposes people might be confused by Lee sitting there and not him. And, you know, the noise.
His arms don't move from around her neck and shoulders, just like her hands haven't moved from his hair and chest. The air between them is warm. Their pose turns into something that, for Michael, grows in tension; he feels as though if he moves an inch or says a word or does anything else to break the spell, it will be over and Lee will get up and leave.
He tries to tell himself it doesn't matter as he stays frozen still.