[ kiss + soft ] your muse pulling mine into a tender kiss. --deaur (uH OH)
@deaur
Villen was a flame, and Alchumena was lured to him like an unwitting moth. What made him burn so brightly in her eyes and mind and heart was a perplexity that her curiosity refused to let alone. Their conversations were pleasant, his company was pleasant, his voice was pleasant, and the longer she watched him speak, the more pleasant his lips looked.
She couldn't recall when she started taking to her maiden form around him, nor why. He treated her no differently in this form, though she didn't miss the change in his eyes when she came to him with fuller breasts and smooth skin and a newfound deviance that came with her youthfulness. It was something akin to interest, but she wouldn't presume solely based on the look in his eyes. His openness and joyful demeanor coupled with that mischievous nature, however, made him far too enticing for her to resist.
Why she leaned in and stole his lips with a feather light caress with her own was a mystery that she wouldn't mind uncovering for herself. Her kiss was tender, open to influence, but behind it was a flame that threatened to flare into an inferno. It lingered for a mere moment, and when she settled back into her chair, she smiled at him as though it had never happened.
"My apologies, it was rude of me to interrupt. Please, continue with your story." Her dainty hand retrieved her wine glass for her to smile demurely behind it, but her eyes shone with interest with a hint of challenge in their depths.









