[It's only when his shirt is a mess and his mouth is smudged red with something that thankfully isn't blood and his eyes are glittering bright with life rather than the dead sarcophagus gold that they'd been at the party, only then that she slowly lets him draw away enough for her to look at him, just look at him. They're just minutes from home, she knows, and she ought to let him drive, but she doesn't — not for a little bit longer yet.
She just wants to look at him. For a little while, that's all she does, is just look at him, beautiful and flawed and weary prince that he is, shedding his perfection with the light of the dawn, as though the sunbeams crawling up from the edge of the sky are burning away all the marble rigidity in his frame.]
Yes, I know.
[She breathes in deep, filling her chest with it, and lets it out again in a sigh that makes her shoulders sag and her expression soften. It was good to kiss him, and she's sleepy-sated now — for a little while, at least. Until they can make it home, perhaps.]
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She just wants to look at him. For a little while, that's all she does, is just look at him, beautiful and flawed and weary prince that he is, shedding his perfection with the light of the dawn, as though the sunbeams crawling up from the edge of the sky are burning away all the marble rigidity in his frame.]
Yes, I know.
[She breathes in deep, filling her chest with it, and lets it out again in a sigh that makes her shoulders sag and her expression soften. It was good to kiss him, and she's sleepy-sated now — for a little while, at least. Until they can make it home, perhaps.]
You look better like this.