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Ilinger in Hanna’s bedroom longer than I intend to. There’s something between us that hums with a quiet intensity, a melody that only the two of us can hear.
She sits on the edge of her bed, her hands clasped delicately over her lap, her vivid emerald eyes brimming with an emotion I cannot decipher. Silence engulfs us, but it doesn’t feel empty or cold.
It's warm. Inviting, even.
Like an intricate dance rehearsed over countless evenings, she twirls a strand of hair around her slender finger while I watch shadows dance around the room, from candles flickering on walls and the silhouettes of trees outside the window.
"Tell me," Hanna finally breaks the silence, her voice teetering between curiosity and trepidation. All the wine she drank must be catching up to her. "What do you see when you look at me?"
The question hangs in the air for a mere moment. How do I tell her? How do I say that when I look at her, I see a masterpiece tinged not just with beauty but with resilience and strength, born out of tragedy? That I see depths to her she herself may not realize?
“I see…” I begin, my words lost amidst a sea of thoughts.
She seems to hold her breath as my gaze finds hers.
“…a woman who’s far stronger than she believes herself to be,” I finally respond, my voice steady yet brimming with sincerity. “I see someone who’s faced formidable waves and has not been swept away. Instead, she’s learned to ride them. To conquer them.”
Hanna's eyes widen slightly, her hands unclasping to cradle each other in surprise. The fiery glow of the candlelight seems to enhance the green of her eyes, making them appear almost unnaturally bright. She swallows hard, blinking rapidly as if fighting off tears.
"I see beauty," I continue, drinking in her surprise with a sense of satisfaction. "Not just the kind that's apparent to the eyes, but the kind that lingers, hidden beneath layers of resilience and wit."
Her lips part slightly as if she has a retort ready at her tongue's tip, but no sounds escape. The silence returns, but it’s different this time—loaded with revelations and confessions.
My gaze turns soft as I watch her grapple with my words, something that truly only happens when she’s around. I see a mixture of vulnerability and defiance in her eyes—defiance towards the world that had tried to break her and vulnerability towards me, towards my words that have peeled back her defenses.
I close the distance between us, unable to resist the pull I feel toward her any longer.
My mouth descends hungrily onto hers. She stiffens at first, caught off guard. But as I gently cup her cheek, she melts into the kiss, her hands coming up to grip my shirt, pulling me closer. It's a sweet surrender, both of us giving in to the passion that has been building since our eyes first locked on my carriage back in New Solas.
Her lips are soft against mine, yielding yet responsive. The taste of her is intoxicating, a heady mix of innocence and desire that leaves me reeling. I tighten my hold on her, drawing her close until there is no space left between us. Until every inhale is laced with the scent of her, a blend of wine and flowers that teases my senses.
Slowly, I pull away from the kiss. Opening my eyes, I find her watching me, unguarded and open. The softer glow from the moonlight streaming through the window casts shadows over her features and deepens the green of her eyes.
For a minute we just look at each other, breathing heavily. Her eyes travel down to my mouth before flickering back up to meet my gaze again.
She’s beautiful. I tried to convince myself otherwise for the sake of our agreement, but there’s no use fighting these emotions anymore. Not when I have her cradled in my arms like this. She wants this as much as I do.
I reach out to tuck a few loose strands of black hair behind her ear.
"Hanna..." I whisper against her lips.
My hand drifts down her arm, tracing the curve of her shoulder before resting at the small of her back.
"Yes?" she answers breathlessly.
"I want you," I confess earnestly, even though I know she already suspects it.
Her face softens as she places her hand over mine, a delicate smile playing on her lips as she leans into my touch.
Our gazes remain locked, a silent conversation unfolding between us. Words seem unnecessary. Our eyes convey emotions more potent than any string of sentences could ever articulate. There's desire, of course, a kind that sets the blood aflame.
But there's also a profound sense of understanding and connection, two isolated souls finding solace in each other.
Her fingers trace a featherlight path up my arm, causing an involuntary shiver to pass through me. Every touch from her feels electric, igniting pathways within me that I didn't even know existed.
I lean down once more, capturing her lips with mine in a slow, languorous kiss— a dance of passion and want that leaves us both panting and giddy with desire. Her hands tightly grip my shirt as I deepen the kiss, the necessity for air becoming secondary to the intoxicating taste of her lips.
Pulling away slightly, I press my forehead to hers, our labored breaths mingling in the tiny space between us.
