tson: (☕️ 039)
tseng of the turks ([personal profile] tson) wrote in [personal profile] floresco 2025-03-06 09:17 am (UTC)

[ Her smile is disarming in a way that makes Tseng feel like he's still missing something that's right in front of him. He's all too used to keeping his distance and watching with controlled intensity. In his next report, he'll make a simple note of her birthday passing—no mention of the present. Now that it's on her wrist, Tseng finally ghosts a gloved thumb over the bangle, the cool metal now warming from her skin. He'd hoped not just that it would suit her, but that she would like it.

Both of his hands drift to her elbows while she holds onto him, and Tseng feels a surge, a need to keep the kiss from parting too soon. He leans forward against her lips barely, making it last a little longer. Then, when they do separate: ]


Are you going to make a wish? [ The bracelet was to be it. But she looks at him like she already knows he'll indulge her today—just the date as a reasonable excuse to be more permissible of her whims and ideas than he already is. Tseng lifts his brows, feigning exactingness. ]

Go on, then.

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