Rose Got Completely Lost In The Sensation Of Their Kiss. It Was Gentle And Loving, So Tender. Her Heart

⸻

Every sensation was overwhelming in the best possible way. He was slightly dazed as she drew away from his lips, instead choosing to pepper his face with sweet kisses. He had the grace not to lean forward to beg for more. Nevertheless, a bemused grumble rose in his throat and tumbled from his lips mere moments later. The sound morphed into something more pleased, though, as her lips brushed the tip of his nose with such a wonderous affection.

His fingers, splayed out across her back, drew her nearer as he lazily nosed at her jaw. So close to her neck like this, something suddenly occurred to him and rendered him speechless. The urge to drink was nonexistent. Normally, it proved to be an annoying, pestering thing, always nagging away at him. He simply focused on and enjoyed the scent of his herbs in its stead. He chose the scent of chamomile, sage, et cetera. It helped to ease the afflicting ache and the oncoming urge. In the present, though, there was none of it.

On an experimental whim, he carefully buried his nose in her neck. He drew a line of slow kisses across her warm skin, soft and tender, and hummed pleasantly into the hollow of her throat.

Moments later, the truth hit him: her albinism and the genetic differences there must have been its cause. Her blood didn't sing to him, calling out for him and pleading with him to drink in the same way as most other human blood did. The bloodlust was gone. It was just another reason, perhaps, that he felt so drawn to her. He hadn't even noticed. How could something this monumental slip past an educated man such as him? He sighed with relief, despite the way this entire scene and his realization had left him utterly flustered, and eventually murmured to her.

"You're exceptional. I think you deserve to hear the words said aloud."

She was—in so many ways—but the majority of them he could never share with her. She couldn't discover what he was. It was a dark, depressing thought, but it was all true. It would ruin things.

Rose got completely lost in the sensation of their kiss. It was gentle and loving, so tender. Her heart was beating fast as her fingers kept going through his sideburns and trailing along his jawline. She loved the feeling of his arms around her, the way his fingers practically combed through her white hair.

Once their lips had parted for a moment, she took a few heavy breaths. Her hand was still resting on the side of his face, her finger running across his soft sideburns. She loved touching those a lot more than she'd like to admit. A soft smile formed on her flushed face as he spoke before their lips met once again. Her eyes also fell shut, getting lost in the moment.

This kiss was equally loving, but a bit more passionate, her breath growing heavier by the second. It was like the world around them had melted away. Her free hand held onto his shoulder, as if he'd vanish if she let go. Once their lips parted once more, she immediately placed a soft kiss on the edge of his mouth, then on the tip of his nose.

⸻

That kiss left his pulse skyrocketing, practically galloping away in his chest. He was breathless, lost for a while as they discovered one another in a more intimate way. Hesitant hands fell from her cheek and the sofa to land upon her back, wanting to keep her tucked close.

The kiss itself was slow, lazy, and utterly delectable as their mouths dipped and chased each other, and Regis was unable to hold back the low hum of approval. Rose wanted this, wanted him, and it was sweeter than anything he had ever realized in such a long time. The notion was wholly comforting.

His gentle grip on her grew tighter with an outpouring of emotion, and he began a course of raising his hands along the curved ridge of her spine, feeling the expanse of her dress-covered back and delighting in each subtle shift of delicate muscle he could feel as she continued to kiss him, his words a mere murmur against her lips as he drew back to allow her a gasping breath. Long fingers dipped into her hair, elated to find that it was as soft as it appeared.

"I'm ever so grateful that you didn't slap me," he teased breathlessly. "It would have been highly unfortunate. As far as I can tell, despite our current state of drunkenness, your wonderful lips needed kissing. Who am I to resist?"

He pressed another, softer kiss to her lips, eyes falling shut in bliss.

The sensation of his hand on her cheek was almost too much to handle for her at first. A soft gasp escaped her as his thumb ran across her pale skin. She felt her cheeks growing hotter. It was a good thing she couldn't see herself. Seeing how red she was at that moment, she probably would have passed out from embarassment.

It actually took him saying it out loud for her to realize that he felt the same way she felt. He was right. Nobody would write such poems like he did about her just for the hell of it. He felt it too, this overwhelming affection.

Rose didn't even really hesitate. It was as if her mind had been wiped blank by his proximity, his touch. Her heart beat fast and her breath slightly hitched as she gave into the urge to kiss him. She closed her eyes before she softly pressed her lips against his. It was a short, sweet, gentle kiss. Rose's hand had gone up to the side of his face as their lips met, her fingers tracing his sideburns. They felt soft, like everything about him did. Her heart felt like it was about to leap out of her chest, but she didn't care. It was like the world around her had faded to nothing in that moment and nothing else mattered but him.

( made a thing for my bestie, @bloodandwhite. kinda thinking you guys might enjoy this mix too, @starwrittenfates & @albinoxherbalist. hope so, anyway. )

but plants are the best companions

“I must find Dettlaff. Help him. I certainly owe him that much.”

( for @starwrittenfates. )

Some scribbles from last week.