[ she doesn't press further, stealing away secrets yelena isn't prepared to share. much of her life is still a shrouded mystery, a curtain alina feels she's gradually pulled back to shed light on it — but she can piece together hazy fragments, the faint impressions of a painful past. if kirigan can do no worse to her than what's already been done, then ... alina's certain the skeletons yelena has shoved into her closet aren't easy to stomach, aren't pretty to examine.
and there are things of much greater importance to invest her energy in, anyway. the future ahead of them. yelena's closeness, dipping into the small space between them, and the soft feathering of her lips at the corners of alina's. alina's head tips, a fond brush of her nose nuzzled to yelena's, as dimples round out the appled corners of alina's cheeks.
slowly, she dips up, a gentle glide of her mouth like soft satin along yelena's own. chaste, patient — not demanding beyond that, as she mumbles, ]
I'll be the judge of that.
[ and her judgment is this: yelena's kiss is soft, in contrast to all the ruthless grace alina has witnessed from her, and warm — delightfully delicate, somehow, in contrast to the power alina knows lurks within her. ]
See? [ she dots a kiss on the tip of the other woman's nose, an affectionate parting gift, as she draws back — though her shoulders haven't moved, from where they've fluttered down to perch on yelena's shoulders. ] Some traditions aren't so silly, with the right person.
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and there are things of much greater importance to invest her energy in, anyway. the future ahead of them. yelena's closeness, dipping into the small space between them, and the soft feathering of her lips at the corners of alina's. alina's head tips, a fond brush of her nose nuzzled to yelena's, as dimples round out the appled corners of alina's cheeks.
slowly, she dips up, a gentle glide of her mouth like soft satin along yelena's own. chaste, patient — not demanding beyond that, as she mumbles, ]
I'll be the judge of that.
[ and her judgment is this: yelena's kiss is soft, in contrast to all the ruthless grace alina has witnessed from her, and warm — delightfully delicate, somehow, in contrast to the power alina knows lurks within her. ]
See? [ she dots a kiss on the tip of the other woman's nose, an affectionate parting gift, as she draws back — though her shoulders haven't moved, from where they've fluttered down to perch on yelena's shoulders. ] Some traditions aren't so silly, with the right person.