[ Zephirin's eyelids flutter open, but he has yet to step back; his hands have drifted from their initial placement, palms warm against Francel's hips. What began chastely deepened into an expression of unfettered need, and Francel's lips look bruised for it, somehow becoming. ]
I have an inkling...
[ Like as not Francel would have preferred kisses received each time that he kissed Zephirin. Perhaps he even hoped for something more to come of their very first evening as chirurgeon and patient.
Zephirin's left hand returns to Francel's cheek, cupping it with a hint of regret. ]
no subject
I have an inkling...
[ Like as not Francel would have preferred kisses received each time that he kissed Zephirin. Perhaps he even hoped for something more to come of their very first evening as chirurgeon and patient.
Zephirin's left hand returns to Francel's cheek, cupping it with a hint of regret. ]
My request is not yet fulfilled, however.