@corditeheart:
She summons up the edge of a fire spell, a snap of her fingers, and the fragrant pipe smoke fills the air between them. Xu plucks it from Fran’s lips, takes a drag of her own, and offers it up in return– an indirect kiss, as it were.
The bottle is empty, but she finds herself watching Fran’s mouth anyway, transitioning from bottle to pipe stem, and wonders why she can’t think clearly for a second.
Her refilled glass glistens amber under the gas lights of the room; she almost forgets about it, hand coming to graze along Fran’s arm.
“Thanks,” Xu offers, voice husky with the smoke.
Her entire posture, deep beneath the surface, shifts with that small gesture.
Unspoken consent. Receptiveness.
Fran allows herself to indulge in the hint of her taste at the tip of the mouthpiece before pulling heavily on it, savoring the flavor weaving with the aromatic smoke slipping over her tongue. She sets aside the pipe without ceremony this time, taking up Xu’s chin in her hand instead– thumb dragging (with an edge of hunger) along her bottom lip before it meets her own, the lungful of smoke passing silkily between them.