"H... hello? Um, this is me-- ah, Noire! I'm Noire, and I'm very sorry for missing you somehow... I promise I'm not avoiding you, unless you're scary or you're Mo-- trying to curse me. U-um, so when I can figure out how to-- ( beeps ensue, followed by a shriek of fright ) O-oh, no! What did I push, how do I-- make it-- oh gods, did I break it?! W-why can't we just talk in person?!"
[ BEEP. ]
voicemail; action ; video
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You're catching on! ... And I haven't thought about the other way yet. But I could!
[ Once his mind gets off this very singular track. ]
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[ she's still so new to it!! ]
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With me, right? You'll practice with me?
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Morgan, I'd never kiss anyone else.
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[ He begins to sit up. ]
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[ But she'll move back, a tad regretfully. She'll miss the hair spoiling. ]
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But for now he'll halt her by the waist before she can get too far. And he'll lean in close with his renewed maneuverability, very much a space invader. ]
I guess I should count my blessings... and use them to their full potential, hm?
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If that means you don't have to kiss a pillow...
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With that gentle approval, he smiles and leans in to meet her lips at a more reasonable speed than his last attempt, careful to get the angle just right. It doesn't feel quite as clumsy now -- and it probably helps that he's feeling a lot more patient this time around too. ]
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Not that he has any problem with her mouth or her lips, which he will kiss again and again quite gladly, experimentally, working up a gentle rhythm and trying to get it a little more right with each try. ]
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Really, she ought to have expected this. Morgan was a genius tactician; he always worked hard at everything he tried until he could say he'd proudly mastered it, and it's that earnestness that had drawn her to him in the first place, and what makes her try now, to keep up. She wants to make this just as good for him, and soon enough, she'll get the rhythm. ]
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He hums happily as they finally settle into something a little more comfortable. Bit by bit he thinks less about how he can make it better and feels more of the softness of her lips, the delicate play of each touch. It's so very easy to get lost in the details; before long, he hardly notices that each effort is getting a little bit longer, a little bit deeper, lingering in appreciation of the moment. ]
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And also absolutely no clue what to do with her hands, as they've been resting on her thighs for some time now. After a minute, one will drift up to trace the lines of his face, along a cheekbone, down near his jaw, back up to push her fingers into his hair, to guide him closer as she shifts towards him.
She'll be kicking herself for awhile as to why she hadn't kissed him a lot earlier, but for now, she's fine with making soft, contented noises in her throat when he comes back for another round. ]
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... And if his kisses get a little more heated and he a little more breathless, he'll blame it right on her. ]
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... Until one particular heated kiss draws a very small moan from her.
And Noire jerks back, mortified, because what was that embarrassing noise-- ]
Ah--
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When she draws away without warning, he looks at her with an urgent sort of confusion, breathing heavily and sporting a serious case of tomato face. It takes a second to register that she's probably embarrassed over-- ]
Th-that's okay.
[ That was okay. That was okay. ]
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I-it's embarrassing...
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[ To be completely, shamelessly honest. His hand sneaks up into her hair to give it a reassuring ruffle. ]
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... It wasn't exactly dignified...
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[ No question necessary. ]
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[ She wants to die. ]
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Then that's what matters! And to be frank, little signs like that make me enjoy it even more. Not that I needed much help in the first place... but it sure is encouraging!
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[ But... ]
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[ They might get a little jealous. ]
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