*pretends the url is emeraldeyedwitch* mistletoe
Put “mistletoe” in my inbox to see if my muse might kiss yours.
Sighs — eyes trailing the figure of the other. He’s missed her — beyond comprehension — beyond words —. There’s a glisten in his colors ; excitement, solitude, dare he say it? Intrigue? Miss?
Oh — yes. He’s missed her.
It’s shown in his movements as he reaches above them, flicking the mistletoe. Blinks, his lashes slowly fluttered, a few seconds pondering at the item. Next thing he knows ; his hands fling down to her waist, lifting her up to his lips in a hungry, yes, starving kiss.
His tongue trails over her top teeth, bottom lip dragging along ‘till he then nips her top lip. He tugs it slightly — bit forcefully — but none the less, he licks it gently afterwards.
No. He’s not happy that she came to visit.
Then suddenly left.
And yes, he’s developed new relationships. New —— rather terrible events occurred. But for a few days, he remains in peace.
& oh — bloody hell, he’s missed his friendly little witch.
Not for the lust ‘nor the intimacy. But because she was in fact, still a dear friend to him.
He still remembers the teasing. The jokes. Kisses. Strips. …. rather bold move on her part when she dyed her hair blonde. And visited.
Eventually he separates the kiss but — keeps his forehead leaned against hers.
”…y’know, miss Bennett. You’ve missed quite a lot since your last visit.”
