Aoba could feel that embarrassing tomato-red heat gaining strength in his cheeks, but for once, it didn’t feel so bad. Maybe because Declan was just as open and vulnerable, trying just as much as he was. And he was still so giving, asking to belong instead of asking to possess. Maybe his definitions of ‘honor’ were a little fuzzy here, but if he wanted to go for words that pulled on Aoba’s heartstrings, he’d plucked out good ones.
There was one more thing to be clear on, though, as Aoba lifted a hand and rested it against the side of Declan’s face, thumb against a cheekbone and the rest of his fingers spread across that marble-like complexion, shifting with those indescribable little waves of glow.
“You don’t need to be anything but yourself,” he answered softly. “That’s how you made me fall for you, after all.”
And hopefully with that it would be okay to cut Declan off from words for at least a little while, because he’d put himself in a place where Aoba really wanted to kiss him—so that was just what he did, even if he did have to go up on his toes a bit for it.
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There was one more thing to be clear on, though, as Aoba lifted a hand and rested it against the side of Declan’s face, thumb against a cheekbone and the rest of his fingers spread across that marble-like complexion, shifting with those indescribable little waves of glow.
“You don’t need to be anything but yourself,” he answered softly. “That’s how you made me fall for you, after all.”
And hopefully with that it would be okay to cut Declan off from words for at least a little while, because he’d put himself in a place where Aoba really wanted to kiss him—so that was just what he did, even if he did have to go up on his toes a bit for it.