This must be it, must be akin to finding one's tribe - the mutual understanding that they both prefer the same things in life. She can't help but be comforted by it.
A smile happens, and after another sip of wine, a bold question: "And has anyone here caught your interest in that way?"
Why is she nervous? Why does hearing the answer - whether it's a yes or a no - fill her with trepidation?
(Surely, Wen Qing who is so clever and observant and incredible, surely she's seen right through Hermione's 'admiration' by now, spotted the crush for what it was.)
A flutter in her stomach and a faint blush on her cheeks is the immediate response to that question. For all her words, she has thought about people here in that way. Is it shameful to admit to it?
But then, what does it hurt?
"Yes. Some of our companions are beautiful, and I admit to appreciating that." She stops, chewing on her lip for a moment, then straightens her shoulders. She's faced death; how is confessing to a crush harder than that?
She shifts her attention to look at Hermione directly. "Among those, I have gotten to know a few closely, and that is where the real attraction lies for me. Of those, there is one I'd like to kiss."
A pause, and then: "Have you met anyone here you'd like to kiss?"
She thinks she knows the shape of Hermione's feelings, the unspoken thing between them, but it is not a situation she would press without confirmation.
She knows what the moment calls for - more wine. Hermione follows the protocol, albeit nervously; she picks up the stubby bottle and refills Wen Qing's cup first, then her own, all the while painfully aware that she is blushing brightly.
"It was definitely not Miang-Si in the public square, I can tell you that," she pipes up, her voice pitching up in a way that betrays her nerves.
Has she met anyone she would like to kiss, in Akhuras? Of course, plenty of people here are woefully attractive and intelligent and appeal to the sapiosexual that lives within Hermione, but she has been so good at ignoring the attraction, at brushing it off as mere admiration. Idolisation.
"I didn't think of how much I wanted to kiss someone until I learned about myself that I would like to kiss women, as well. It's - I know I must be dreadfully naive, but this whole experiencing attraction for both women and men thing is a bit new to me, in the sense that I have not felt at liberty to explore it until just now."
She take a sip of sweet rice wine and makes a little pursed-lips face. "Anyway, to directly answer, yes. Yes, I have." Courage, you Gryffindor, she tells herself, and looks towards Wen Qing. There will be a pink blush on her cheeks, and her expression will be hopeful but also terrified.
It takes courage to admit this, and someone - Hermione thinks - will have to spell it out in words. Simple, undeniable words. Her gaze flickers to study Wen Qing now, take her in as the Wen Qing B.C. (before confession). (It's not that she expects the woman to be outraged at her boldness, but - oh, Merlin, she doesn't know what she expects, so she might as well just -)
"You." She sucks in a breath. "I'd - you are very much the person I would like to kiss."
Edited (i decided to edit this) 2024-06-28 08:30 (UTC)
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no subject
A smile happens, and after another sip of wine, a bold question: "And has anyone here caught your interest in that way?"
Why is she nervous? Why does hearing the answer - whether it's a yes or a no - fill her with trepidation?
(Surely, Wen Qing who is so clever and observant and incredible, surely she's seen right through Hermione's 'admiration' by now, spotted the crush for what it was.)
no subject
But then, what does it hurt?
"Yes. Some of our companions are beautiful, and I admit to appreciating that." She stops, chewing on her lip for a moment, then straightens her shoulders. She's faced death; how is confessing to a crush harder than that?
She shifts her attention to look at Hermione directly. "Among those, I have gotten to know a few closely, and that is where the real attraction lies for me. Of those, there is one I'd like to kiss."
A pause, and then: "Have you met anyone here you'd like to kiss?"
She thinks she knows the shape of Hermione's feelings, the unspoken thing between them, but it is not a situation she would press without confirmation.
no subject
"It was definitely not Miang-Si in the public square, I can tell you that," she pipes up, her voice pitching up in a way that betrays her nerves.
Has she met anyone she would like to kiss, in Akhuras? Of course, plenty of people here are woefully attractive and intelligent and appeal to the sapiosexual that lives within Hermione, but she has been so good at ignoring the attraction, at brushing it off as mere admiration. Idolisation.
"I didn't think of how much I wanted to kiss someone until I learned about myself that I would like to kiss women, as well. It's - I know I must be dreadfully naive, but this whole experiencing attraction for both women and men thing is a bit new to me, in the sense that I have not felt at liberty to explore it until just now."
She take a sip of sweet rice wine and makes a little pursed-lips face. "Anyway, to directly answer, yes. Yes, I have." Courage, you Gryffindor, she tells herself, and looks towards Wen Qing. There will be a pink blush on her cheeks, and her expression will be hopeful but also terrified.
It takes courage to admit this, and someone - Hermione thinks - will have to spell it out in words. Simple, undeniable words. Her gaze flickers to study Wen Qing now, take her in as the Wen Qing B.C. (before confession). (It's not that she expects the woman to be outraged at her boldness, but - oh, Merlin, she doesn't know what she expects, so she might as well just -)
"You." She sucks in a breath. "I'd - you are very much the person I would like to kiss."