[ When Hermione first starts talking, Wen Qing looks away, focused on the wall of roses, the gentle cascade of petals through the air as the sunset gilds them in light. It's a beautiful picture, almost too perfect for idle conversation, and then Hermione continues, and it is no longer idle chatter but something meaningful and deep.
She looks at the other woman, her messy curls and the practical clothing and the beautiful, beloved face, which stirs emotions in her heart that Wen Qing never expected and isn't sure what to do with, even now. ]
I wanted to kiss you. Back in the house we guarded, in Ke-Waihu. Before the serpant surprised us. [ It had been the first time she'd acknowledged that. ] You were so easy to talk to and funny, and I had never let myself feel anything like that before.
[ She swallows sharply, the vulnerability of such conversation drying her throat out. There will be tea, later. Maybe good wine. ] So you are not the only one who wished for such a thing.
[ She raises her free hand to cup Hermione's cheek, firm and gentle, the skilled fingers of a surgeon, and looks at Hermione, a question unvoiced in her eyes, lingering on her tongue. It's so forward to ask, but between Hermione's confession and the way the words feel pulled out of her, as though by magic, she asks: ] Can I kiss you now?
[ That's one way to quickly kill an incontrollable burst of laughter, those five words: I wanted to kiss you. Hermione's breath catches, the giggle dies off in her throat, and she is left standing halfway up the staircase, frozen in place.
It seems surreal that Wen Qing is truly saying those things. It does not feel surreal that those words, from Wen Qing, send a flutter in her stomach and behind her ribcage. She's not a stranger to crushes, not a stranger to wanting someone physically. Even when Miang-Si planted her lips on Hermione, she'd initially thought the young woman tragically pretty - and it had served as a launching pad to micro-analyse her feelings towards women in general.
It's why the List exists. Buried deep in her notes, there is a list of people (not just men, not just women) that Hermione has felt attracted to. Written in a semi-dazed state, trying to make sense of herself, trying to justify that there would be no need to explore those feelings further at all.
Who falls in love during a journey towards survival? Who falls in love with people they're likely to never see again?
Guess I do, she thinks, floating on the words that Wen Qing keeps saying. A smile flickers on Hermione's lips at you are not the only one who wished for such a thing, and then - the question.
She climbs one more step on the giant staircase, and without relinquishing her hold on Wen Qing's free hand, turns to face her. Because it feels right, she returns her hand back to her cheek, pressing a kiss to the inside of her wrist first, then looks the woman in the eyes.] Please do.
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She looks at the other woman, her messy curls and the practical clothing and the beautiful, beloved face, which stirs emotions in her heart that Wen Qing never expected and isn't sure what to do with, even now. ]
I wanted to kiss you. Back in the house we guarded, in Ke-Waihu. Before the serpant surprised us. [ It had been the first time she'd acknowledged that. ] You were so easy to talk to and funny, and I had never let myself feel anything like that before.
[ She swallows sharply, the vulnerability of such conversation drying her throat out. There will be tea, later. Maybe good wine. ] So you are not the only one who wished for such a thing.
[ She raises her free hand to cup Hermione's cheek, firm and gentle, the skilled fingers of a surgeon, and looks at Hermione, a question unvoiced in her eyes, lingering on her tongue. It's so forward to ask, but between Hermione's confession and the way the words feel pulled out of her, as though by magic, she asks: ] Can I kiss you now?
no subject
It seems surreal that Wen Qing is truly saying those things. It does not feel surreal that those words, from Wen Qing, send a flutter in her stomach and behind her ribcage. She's not a stranger to crushes, not a stranger to wanting someone physically. Even when Miang-Si planted her lips on Hermione, she'd initially thought the young woman tragically pretty - and it had served as a launching pad to micro-analyse her feelings towards women in general.
It's why the List exists. Buried deep in her notes, there is a list of people (not just men, not just women) that Hermione has felt attracted to. Written in a semi-dazed state, trying to make sense of herself, trying to justify that there would be no need to explore those feelings further at all.
Who falls in love during a journey towards survival? Who falls in love with people they're likely to never see again?
Guess I do, she thinks, floating on the words that Wen Qing keeps saying. A smile flickers on Hermione's lips at you are not the only one who wished for such a thing, and then - the question.
She climbs one more step on the giant staircase, and without relinquishing her hold on Wen Qing's free hand, turns to face her. Because it feels right, she returns her hand back to her cheek, pressing a kiss to the inside of her wrist first, then looks the woman in the eyes.] Please do.