@trevelyn said: Forehead kiss for zev !!
HE HAS NOT BEEN SO at ease with another , found such casual intimacy , since the blight . it makes sense , though , he supposes . marcella is as the warden : she sees more in him then he does in himself .
he’d snatched a bottle of antivan wine from the herald’s rest earlier in the night , a move that probably only reinforces that mother giselle’s assertion that he is a bad influence . a bad influence ? perhaps . a fun one , though ? certainly . catching marcella in her quarters had been easy enough , and he’d lured her to the battlements with his stolen bottle of wine & a picnic basket of treats filched from the kitchen . well , filched may not be the right word : he’d smiled and flirted and batted his eyelashes until one of the cooks , fondly exasperated , had shoved food into his arms & shooed him away .
they’ve been sitting for hours , chatting or sitting in silence , watching the stars and the mountains beyond the walls . their talk drifts from serious topics — corypheus , the disappearance of the wardens , the crows — to stories of their misadventures . it’s well past midnight when the inquisitor finally stands , wrapping her shawl around herself against the chill . zevran glances at her , trying not to stare ( she is a beautiful woman , who can blame him ? ) , and as such is nearly caught off-guard when she stoops again to brush her lips against his forehead .
‘ my dear inquisitor , i believe you missed . ’ he says it with a wink and a laugh meant to distract from the gentle warmth in his chest . ‘ you should work on your aim for next time . ’
KISSES (ACCEPTING)
