[ It's tempting to ask why then if he wanted something from her why he didn't keep that stupid hat - but any snark is quickly swallowed up by the press of his lips against hers. The kiss isn't one just to shut her up. She knows what those kisses feel like and this isn't that.
There's something more to it, an earnestness that she's terrified to read into because it feels like kindling that could easily stoke the flames of her hope that she's trying desperately to stamp out. Easier said than done when they're pressed up together like this and she can feel his heartbeat through the palms of her hands. A kiss is a kiss, she reminds herself. It wouldn't mean anything unless she made something of it.
And if she isn't assigning meaning, if she's trying to turn a blind eye to this kiss, then that also means she shouldn't be assigning anything to the look he's giving her, right? How can she not when he's looking at her the way she had seen him look at Claude that night of the gala? Hilda feels her heart lurch and creak in her chest as she looks into his eyes, feeling breathless from a kiss that didn't make her heart hope, that didn't make it feel like she was floating and light, that didn't make it feel like the world was just them and these sheets.
Her gaze lingers on amber eyes more warm and light than any precious stone. Breath returns to her and her protest comes out as a barely audible exhale as her eyes flit away before her eyes mist over from the undeserving kindness he's showing her. ]
We'll see.
[ But they both know that she's softer for him than she can voice at this moment. ]
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There's something more to it, an earnestness that she's terrified to read into because it feels like kindling that could easily stoke the flames of her hope that she's trying desperately to stamp out. Easier said than done when they're pressed up together like this and she can feel his heartbeat through the palms of her hands. A kiss is a kiss, she reminds herself. It wouldn't mean anything unless she made something of it.
And if she isn't assigning meaning, if she's trying to turn a blind eye to this kiss, then that also means she shouldn't be assigning anything to the look he's giving her, right? How can she not when he's looking at her the way she had seen him look at Claude that night of the gala? Hilda feels her heart lurch and creak in her chest as she looks into his eyes, feeling breathless from a kiss that didn't make her heart hope, that didn't make it feel like she was floating and light, that didn't make it feel like the world was just them and these sheets.
Her gaze lingers on amber eyes more warm and light than any precious stone. Breath returns to her and her protest comes out as a barely audible exhale as her eyes flit away before her eyes mist over from the undeserving kindness he's showing her. ]
We'll see.
[ But they both know that she's softer for him than she can voice at this moment. ]