[ At least he admits that it'd be embarrassing - they have to agree. It used to make them nervous whenever he would even just pay close attention to them or speak to them too directly. They suppose the same holds true now, too, but in a different way; it makes them nervously excited, similar to the feeling that having a racing heart had felt. They don't get tired of the attention, even if it is embarrassing for him to talk about writing for them for pages. Some pink bleeds into their cheeks among the flecks of black, accented by the glinting from the low light.
They close their eyes momentarily as he murmurs against their hair, letting out a slow breath. It's not surprising that he would say that after that lead up, but they still feel the words run a pleasant shock through them, like they're slowly mending the hole in them left from years of going unseen. They pull back just enough to look at him seriously, eyelids seeming heavy.
It turns out that it isn't from the dark; after a pause, one of their hands leaves the window sill to hold the fabric just beneath his collar, giving it a gentle but firm tug. They don't think they can say it back out loud, not just yet. But they want him to know, and that's the important thing. Even with their heels on, they can't quite reach up to kiss him on their own unless he leans into it, so they pull him down gently, tilting their head up and fluttering their eyes closed as they press their lips against his. They're alone right now, so it's okay to let down their guard completely like this. Maybe it's the dim light from the moon washing over them, or maybe it's the surrealness of their surroundings, but it feels like they're far, far away from everything that defines them both, both nowhere and anywhere at all - it's an escape, albeit a fleeting one. They linger for as long as he'll allow it, wanting to prolong the sense of fulfillment and affection welling up in them for as long as they can. They love him too. ]
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They close their eyes momentarily as he murmurs against their hair, letting out a slow breath. It's not surprising that he would say that after that lead up, but they still feel the words run a pleasant shock through them, like they're slowly mending the hole in them left from years of going unseen. They pull back just enough to look at him seriously, eyelids seeming heavy.
It turns out that it isn't from the dark; after a pause, one of their hands leaves the window sill to hold the fabric just beneath his collar, giving it a gentle but firm tug. They don't think they can say it back out loud, not just yet. But they want him to know, and that's the important thing. Even with their heels on, they can't quite reach up to kiss him on their own unless he leans into it, so they pull him down gently, tilting their head up and fluttering their eyes closed as they press their lips against his. They're alone right now, so it's okay to let down their guard completely like this. Maybe it's the dim light from the moon washing over them, or maybe it's the surrealness of their surroundings, but it feels like they're far, far away from everything that defines them both, both nowhere and anywhere at all - it's an escape, albeit a fleeting one. They linger for as long as he'll allow it, wanting to prolong the sense of fulfillment and affection welling up in them for as long as they can. They love him too. ]