Basorexia - An overwhelming desire to kiss. :D
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Basorexia (Cora/Cullen, 795 words, SFW)
“It’s a reel, Cullen!” Cora laughed, her features brighter than he’d seen in months, both hands tugging along his wrist. “I promise you can’t mess up too badly. It’s not like we’re dancing in front of the court at the Winter Palace again.”
“Thank the Maker for that,” Cullen mumbled, rubbing his free hand along the back of his neck. The Winter Palace had been disaster enough and it was a miracle he hadn’t trod all over Cora’s feet when they did make it into the ballroom before the final notes of the night had played. This was the complete opposite of the refined and overwhelmingly catty feel of the ballroom at Celene’s palace; the roadside inn was another stop along their way from Skyhold to Ostwick on what was described as a “much needed vacation” from their duties within the Inquisition.
“You go without me,” Cullen gave her a little smile, “I’ll make sure we have food and drinks sorted.” Cora pouted but it seemed her lover wouldn’t be swayed from his path.
Sighing, she smirked, leaning up to ghost her lips against his cheek. “Spoilsport,” She teased, slipping her hands from his. But she didn’t linger, weaving herself into the dance with grace Cullen had only ever seen on the battlefield. Yet, instead of moving with deadly intent, she twirled and spun along with a lightness that had been missing from her in the months leading up to the final confrontation at the Temple.
The last few months had been hard, to say the least. He’d watched her slowly close in upon herself, hardening her edges, hiding away the pain and exhaustion of carrying the weight of the world on her narrow shoulders. She’d slowly stopped smiling, laughing out of habit without conviction behind it, narrowing her focus on the end that approached with a steady sureness. Heavy, he thought, she’d seemed so heavy in the last few months.
Now, however, he saw the spark of his Cora among the group, her hands woven with another woman’s as they spun and clapped. It was like seeing the sun cresting from a cloudy sky, the storm passing and leaving nothing but light along the dew. She threw her head back and laughed with such force and his heart soared to see the happiness all but etched upon her freckled features. Out here they could be anyone, leaving behind the burden of command, and Cora had never looked more lovely that in the dim lighting of the tavern, her smile all but lighting up the room.
In that moment, she was simply Cora, and Cullen had never loved her more than he did now.
His stomach rolled and flipped over the realization that he wanted to stay at her side for the rest of their lives, almost surprising himself with the intensity of emotion that followed. He had loved her for far longer, burned so long for her, but he had been cautious when there had been no true hope or certainty of forever for them. The notion that he didn’t have to worry as much, that they might have a true chance at a future beyond the war they had fought and won, positively overwhelmed him.
The music stopped and Cora clapped along with the crowd, beaming as the musicians got settled for another tune. She caught his gaze on her, her own expression softening as she outstretched her hands to him, an invitation to follow her lead. He had a hundred different desires racing through his mind. Stepping forward, he moved into the crowd, his hands reaching readily for hers.
She was smirking, knowing, amused, asking softly, “Not so afraid to mess up now?”
Caught up in the emotion of his own realization, Cullen didn’t have a smart answer for her, giving in to the one thought that overwhelmed his senses. Cupping her face in his hands, he leaned in, not caring for the eyes upon them, giving in and kissing her soundly. Time seemed frozen a moment, her fingers clutching his shirt, one of his hands weaving gently into her short ebony locks.
He wanted to spend the rest of his life making her smile, hearing her laugh, taking her as his wife if she would have him.
For now it was enough to simply kiss her, to take a tentative lead as the music began again.
(Thankfully she forgave him easily and readily for stepping on her toes more than once.)