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[adlantisag]

[ His teasing only makes her roll her eyes. ]

Many people call me Kida--but you are the only one here to have earned it.

[ It's more weighty than he'd think. He made the effort--one of the only ones. That he doesn't give a nickname back doesn't bother her. Perhaps he doesn't have one, or doesn't use one. Maybe he's just taking his time.

Instead, he gives her a flower.

She thinks at first that it might be just the adrenaline draining out of her, but the more he speaks the more aware she becomes of the chilled grass beneath them, the lantern-light enveloping them, the moon overhead. His face is flushed; even his hand can't hide the stripe of pink that creeps up his nose. But he's looking right at her, his single eye solid and steady, his voice low. A moonflower, he says; something from his homeland. Rare and precious. He gives her a promise.

It's--ah. Oh, you silly man, she thinks, half-fond and half-furious, redness touching her cheeks. How can you say such things?

When was the last time anyone had spoken like that to her? With care and sweetness. She's not immune to his charm, he must know it. Idly, she turns the flower in between her fingers, its fragrance wafting into the night air. Had he brought this here, even knowing they would fight? He'd gone deep into the fairy forest to retrieve it for her. This was--almost to-the-last--a courtship gesture.

The feeling that wells up in her chest is bittersweet. Why could we not have met another way? she thinks, knowing where his loyalties would forever reside. She could not take him from Oushu, if ALASTAIR would even allow it, nor he take her from Atlantis. Impasse.

And yet--Kida isn't the type to deny herself. She tucks the flower behind her ear, pushing back her hair. The dark blossom contrasts sharply against the paleness. ]

Masamune...

[ His name is velvet on her tongue. She leans forward on her knees, one hand reaching for his jaw, her fingers gliding over his skin. The other hand lands on his knee, stabilizing. She closes the distance.

It's not a chaste kiss. She lets the adrenaline and the affection that suffuse her pour out, her mouth sliding over his. She thumbs his cheekbone, right beneath his eyepatch, close enough to feel the warmth from his body. She draws it out, tastes him, tastes the night and the cold air. Then she pulls back, her expression bright with mischief, and more than a little desire--but her gazes slides away even as her body tilts back, gets ready to stand. ]

The next time you kiss me, you really must do better.

[ Implying, of course, that there very well might be a next time. ]

[inroad]

[ if someone told him that's exactly how this would go down if done step by step from how this started to know he never would have believed them for a second (flat out laughing at them would be quite likely as well

and yet here they are.

Masamune isn't going to complain, not in the least, either. The samurai manages to be able to do much else, either. Damn if he doesn't regret it a missed opportunity to give back proper, leaving him a little bit stunned.

Kida's voice is enough to catch his attention and get him to answer her. he can't say he actively recalls moving as he does to grab her arm to prevent her from getting up, leaning forward himself rather than pulling her any which way back towards him. When he has his mouth near her ear is when he stops, words calm albeit to be such is incredibly difficult to manage.

but, restraint is crucial right now. the first time while he had absolutely different intentions than now, he finds it exactly for that reason he can't take her kiss as it being fine to initiate another. ]

And 'next time' can't be right now? Just checking. [ Even he understands enough that if that situation left anything particularly hurt or otherwise sour he needs to even further demonstrate respect now that was not there before, himself or not.

It's clear, however, that while he'll wait he would really rather not. While he doesn't know that he was the first person to kiss her in longer than what his entire lifetime will be, she really absolutely deserves something better to reference back to. ]

[adlantisag]

[ Flirting is nice, easy; she likes as much as any other woman to feel desired, a winsome smile, handsome shoulders. Masamune is pretty, yes, but ambitious, driven, strong. Attraction for him settles low in her belly, pooling there stubbornly. His mouth is close to her ear, his voice a rumble in the dark. She can smell him, feel the warmth from him. The lines of trees extend past the line of his shoulder, and it's all she can do not to nose into his hair.

But there's an intensity to Masamune that remains foreign to her, however. In Atlantis she'd never really entertained a proper suitor. None brave enough to court the princess, and her too occupied by seeking the respect of her warriors rather than a man's love. Of course it had bothered her: she was the last of her lineage, and Atlantis' heir. But she had bigger worries then, and even bigger ones now.

She turns her head in increments. Her nose skims his cheek. She feels tethered to him by his hand upon her arm, keeping her close. She wants--wants to push him down into the grass, fall with him, laugh into his mouth like a giddy adolescent and let only the darkness be privy to the hunger that lives within her. But she can't. ]

If kisses are what you want, Masamune, then I can provide.

[ Her mouth is a curve, her body arched towards his, an invitation despite herself. That is all I can provide goes unsaid; he is a lord. They both know the stakes, and how the rules may differ between them. She kisses the shell of his ear, trailing back languidly along his jaw, knowing he'll meet her partway. ]

[inroad]

[ he understands well enough the limitations of what she is offering to him but she's still giving him more than he hoped for. Of course she thinks clearer than he and had it been his responsibility alone to lay the limits down they would have ended up severely close before he would have put a stop to it (if at all). But it's not all unfamiliar, either, and if he's honest with himself... these sorts of limited enjoyment can be better than the rest. ]

I accept, then. [ the volume of his voice is uniquely low but his tone is powerful enough to convey he's more than happy with the offer, even if his lust is going to have to go unfulfilled. His other arm moving to slip around her waist now that she's presented herself in a manner that gives him the permission to, he pulls her closer. Once she's in range he lets go of her arm guiding it just past his shoulder, tilting his head to be able to catch her lips with his own. It's a simple kiss, at least until he pull hers forward flush against him, and then it escalates to something far less innocent. He's careful not to be forceful but he is insistent in being able to taste her as fully as possible from a kiss alone.

Masamune always works to make the best of any opportunity. If it's just kissing he can work with it; but he's going to make sure to get absolutely everything possible there is to be had within his limits. It's not just this so much as his nature in general to get everything he can out of something. Really, he thinks more people should be like that anyway.

Plus, he really does have a lot of making up to do to her in more ways than one, already forgiven or not. ]

[adlantisag]

[ She grins wickedly into his kiss when he pulls her against him, her hands unabashedly winding into his hair, tight against his skull. The kiss is unhurried, her open mouth slanting over his, kissing his top lip and bottom lip, sucking it in between her teeth.

She loses track of how long they stay like that, entwined in the grass. Her in his lap, moving against one another, sharing heat and breath. By the time they part, laughter light between them, the lantern is almost dead. From this close, his eye is bright like a silver coin, like the moon. She kisses his nose, his cheeks, suffused with affection. Her every nerve stands on end, and it's almost--almost enough to ward off the chill.

They need to head back.

Taking his hand in her own, she pulls him to his feet. She collects her lantern, her spear, her cloak. Her step is light. If she walks diagonally a bit to 'accidentally' press against him on their walk back to town, well. She knows he won't mind.

She keeps their fingers laced the whole way. ]