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Their first kiss lasted the length of a held breath, then another, and then time stopped keeping count. Warmth moved between them in slow tides. Tongues were clashing with each other inside their mouths.
Akayoroi's fingers curled in Kai's, then lifted to the line of his jaw, mapping him like a road she meant to walk until she is satisfied. He answered with patience and heat together —gentle at first, then surer— guided more by the sound of her breath than by any thought in his head.
They kissed until their lungs asked for air and their mouths found it only to give it back. When they broke free, they did not step apart. A chess pull like Salvia was formed from their tongues. Their foreheads rested together; her lashes brushed his skin. The mountain's hum felt closer here, as though the stone itself approved and had chosen to stand guard at the door.
"Touch me please," she whispered.
"I will," he said.
