They weren't in a bedroom, which was a bit odd for Hänschen. In fact, they were in an artist's studio - more foreign than anyplace could be, for him.
He turned to her. He looked down at her, over the hair which covered her shoulders and the dress that was ...well, it was a man's shirt, really, not a dress at all.
He pressed his hand to the back of her head and pulled her close, kissing her with a sort of fierce heat that came bubbling up from within.
She was quick to meet his kiss with equal ferocity, feeling more at home here in an artist's studio with a dangerous and unstable boy than she would in a bedroom with --
No. No thinking. Just doing, and kissing, and forgetting.
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"Here we are, then."
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He turned to her. He looked down at her, over the hair which covered her shoulders and the dress that was ...well, it was a man's shirt, really, not a dress at all.
He pressed his hand to the back of her head and pulled her close, kissing her with a sort of fierce heat that came bubbling up from within.
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No. No thinking. Just doing, and kissing, and forgetting.
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or maybe he did. yes he did want that, so long as she was feeling it too. He didn't want the vulnerability of being alone in that.
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