By instinct, both arms come to rest around Kaydel’s waist, drawing her in securely. The fabric over her shoulder dampens, and she raises a hand to cradle the back of the other’s skull, bending to press her cheek into soft strands.
“It’s alright,” she murmurs, repeats whenever+
Her grasp shifts, sliding from the back of her head to cup her face, thumb tracing the curve of her cheek. An urge to seal the space remaining between her own mouth and Kaydel’s occurs, throws a sheet of velvet-soft adoration over the surface of her eyes.+










