sugarplum

30. aesthesiogen

It's never quite a kiss.

A game, a tease, a flirtatious gesture buttered up with pretty eyes and a glowing smile, her fingertips fluttering like butterflies and leaving traces that linger for the rest of the day… but it isn't quite a kiss.

She laughs and she giggles, acting coy and like she's tempting him in her demureness; yet her hand always rests longer and longer on his skin, and Riku finds it hard not to keep count of extending quarter-seconds and half-seconds and three-quarters-seconds-not-quite. With her other hand she'll flick and brush and tangle her hand within his silver hair, sending electric waves down his scalp with every touch.

Sometimes she'll lean in, nearly overstepping the boundaries, nearly, nearly, never really. Her nails might just graze his mouth, parting them with the lightest pressure, before a strawberry slips through his lips and he bites down, mouth savouring everything in such meticulous detail: her, strawberry, her, whipped cream, her.

If he's not careful, his arms will snake around her waist, and he'll pull her closer and closer until their foreheads are nearly touching and his head will tilt up, ever so slightly, letting her also taste the flavour; mouths separated by a red-berried fruit, sunlight and the air they breathe.

It's not quite a kiss.

But it's certainly leading up to one.

Disclaimer: kingdom hearts is not mine.