[ he leans into her touch, into her. He can still remember when she'd been so hesitant to reach out to him; his heart swells with pride feeling her confident, delicate touch now. It was hard to believe that hand could have ever hurt him. (Even if they still could, he doesn't know if he'd have been able to resist her for long.) He breaks the kiss, their lips remaining little more than a hairs' breadth apart, his thumb brushing her cheekbone affectionately, and smiles back a quiet little smile. ]
My treasure, you can feel me as often as you like. [ words murmured at a close distance; he touches his nose to hers, his free hand slipping down beneath the water to rest in the small of her back. ] I love you. Arsène Lupin is yours to keep.
[ and he means that utterly. She doesn't need to wish for him; he'd happily give her anything and everything at a moment's notice, he knows, and he doesn't even care - no, he wants to. ]
no subject
My treasure, you can feel me as often as you like. [ words murmured at a close distance; he touches his nose to hers, his free hand slipping down beneath the water to rest in the small of her back. ] I love you. Arsène Lupin is yours to keep.
[ and he means that utterly. She doesn't need to wish for him; he'd happily give her anything and everything at a moment's notice, he knows, and he doesn't even care - no, he wants to. ]