It's as if he has given her permission to breathe. Just that brief touch of fingers to cheek, the tightness of his hands on hers in reassurance, is enough to make her move. She turns, knees touching his as she does so, and she tilts her head to better accommodate the fit of their lips. They part momentarily, enough for an intake of breath, and then she is kissing him once more, deeper this time, mirroring how he moves for her.

Her chest aches, clenches, and she tries her damnedest not to hope or dare to dream that this might be the start of something more. It's only one kiss. Neria exhales and then one hand loosens from his hold so she can come closer, wrap an arm around his shoulders, and keep him that much closer.

One kiss, one night, it doesn't matter. She wants more.