Her arm gets trapped between them the first time, a small subconscious barrier raised to reflect the fact that this isn't completely a surprise. The expression on his face, the softness of his gaze, disturbed but not shattered by the impatience behind his movement and the clumsy press of his lips to hers. It's not the press of his mouth that she takes most note of the first time, but instead the fluttering in her stomach, nerves drawn tight as she breathes faintly against the kiss and presses back, less of a pointed action than the simple result of the rise and fall of the water around them, drifting her body closer to his.
His lips are softer than she expected, but warm, the shock leaving her breathless for a moment when he pulls back. Only just. Not even enough for her to meet his gaze.
Yet it's enough pause for her to be ready for him the second time. Korra's never been shy about kissing a boy, even if there had only been two in her life before him, before this overgrown kid with his stupidly matured smile and wide palms. She wraps a hand around the back of his neck, anchoring her as her pulse runs fast, and her teeth bite briefly down on the curve of his lower lip, boyish and full. The other hand traces clumsily over the whisker lines on his cheek, brushing in their same direction until fingertips meet with the line of his jaw.
Before he pulls away, Korra lets out a small hum, nervous and tightly wound, yet somehow content.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2013-12-05 07:44 am (UTC)His lips are softer than she expected, but warm, the shock leaving her breathless for a moment when he pulls back. Only just. Not even enough for her to meet his gaze.
Yet it's enough pause for her to be ready for him the second time. Korra's never been shy about kissing a boy, even if there had only been two in her life before him, before this overgrown kid with his stupidly matured smile and wide palms. She wraps a hand around the back of his neck, anchoring her as her pulse runs fast, and her teeth bite briefly down on the curve of his lower lip, boyish and full. The other hand traces clumsily over the whisker lines on his cheek, brushing in their same direction until fingertips meet with the line of his jaw.
Before he pulls away, Korra lets out a small hum, nervous and tightly wound, yet somehow content.