#dikke

Noire - "The Director."

Noire's wheelchair creaks when she moves closer to observe the current scene playing out. The actors follow their rehearsal, bringing a smile to the directors lips.

When the scene cuts, she barely registers the sounds of your approach and turns slightly, only to be met with the feeling of your lips pressing against hers. She doesn't make a move, instead letting out a muffle laugh against your mouth.

The low hum that leaves Noire's lips when you two part sends a pleasant shiver down your spine, the other woman pulling you closer with a sly grin.

"Taking a risk, I see." She teases lowly, motioning to the cast preparing on the far side of the room. "How... intriguing."

Sophia - "The Preacher."

You grab her face and kiss her with enough force to make the other girl's body seize up. Sophia makes a sound similar to a grunt from the sudden gesture, her eyes going wide

Everything around the both of you stops completely. Sophia's indifferent mask cracks just barely, a slight tremble evident in her fingers. Then she's kissing you back with the intent of stealing your breath, her palms sliding up to cup your jaw.

She pulls away with a sharp intake of breath, lips parted as she pants heavily. "You're playing with fire." She breathes against your mouth, an undeniable smirk playing across her lips.

"Good. Keep doing that."

Sophia - "The Preacher." (Pre-Manus)

Sophia's breath hitches when you drag her somewhere secluded on the island, falling into a step behind you. When you whirl around to press your kips with hers, she freezes.

Timidly, she cups your cheeks with both of her palms, pulling you in as close as she possibly could. Sophia warms up to your kiss, softening just a bit and closes her eyes. Something catches in her throat as your fingers close around her wrists, the intimate proximity making her face flush.

The moment you two break apart, the feeling of your lips linger on Sophia's own. She hides a smile behind her hand, her next words coming out in a muffled whisper.

"That was... lovely. Could we repeat that?"

37 - "Prime Number."

You interrupt whatever mathematical point 37 was about to make, your hands framing the girl's face to pull her in. She gasps in wonder at your disruption, her body locking up completely once your lips slot with hers.

For once, the curious integer has nothing to say, her fingers twitching at her sides as she figures out if she should hold your shoulders to anchor herself or shake you.

The kiss ends just when 37's brilliant mind slicks, her lips parting in the slightest. She's at lost for words, her light blue eyes blank. She eventually clear her throat, finding her voice.

"I think we should replicate that." She remarks. "For... arithmetical purposes."

Nautika - "The Unknown."

Your palms slide up Nautika's arms with delicate precision, coming to a rest at her shoulders. She snaps from her never-ending thoughts, the sight of her eyes widening before they soften causing your stomach to twist.

When Nautika relaxes, you close the distance deliberately and kiss her with enough force for a soft, broken sound to escape her lips. With equal intensity, she kisses you back whilst her lips quiver.

Her composure crumbles around the sides, revealing the girl who has seen and experienced incidents she shouldn't have. When you slowly part away, you can see the faint tears gathering within the corners of her eyes.

"Repeat that. I need to remember how this feels."

Yenisei - "Indifferent Protector."

Yenisei's breath catches in her throat when your fingers tread through her damp, uneven hair. She tenses, her heart burning at the feeling of your lips pushing onto hers. Yenisei gradually warms up to it, her hands, cold and wet from the usage of her arcane skills, coming up to grasp your wrists.

Her thumbs rub tender circles on your skin, reciprocating your gesture with a sharp intake of breath. When you part away to catch your breath, Yenisei's eyes search your gaze with heated intensity.

"Your-" Her breath stops, voice becoming softer than it has ever been. Her eyes flutter close, leaning in close enough that her nose brushes with yours. "Your lips are... do it again. Please."

Dikke - "Supreme Chief."

Dikke barely notices when your lips brush against the corner of her mouth. When she cranes her head to protest, you cut her off with a proper kiss to her lips.

The magistrate drops her court files onto the desk, her body freezing up. She grumbles against your mouth, but she finds herself growing fond over your disruptive gesture. When you pull away, Dikke attempts to remain indifferent. You catch the subtle twitch of her lips.

Dikke clears her throat, collecting the files she had held earlier, her fingers tightening around the papers. She doesn't read a single word. "Pleasant surprise," She begins. "doth warn me in the future."