DIAMARI CATCHALL

[prettybomberhead]

because these two need a place to just be over the top losers

Comments

[shinelikea]

Dia's not sure what response to expect once she's finished. She's never-- said so much, not to Mari, not to anyone. She wouldn't know how to react, herself. But when the first thing to greet her is Mari's lips -- as is the second, and the third -- Dia feels relief flood her chest anew, leaving a golden sunlight-glow everywhere it reaches. The kiss is everything she could've asked for, awkward angle, breathlessness and all, and Mari's promise seals it.

"... Thank you, Mari-san," she says once the kiss is over, flushed from the base of her throat to the crown of her neck. She bumps their foreheads lightly together, then reaches to cup Mari's cheek, thumb brushing softly at the corner of her eye.

"You're tearing up again..."

[prettybomberhead]

"You say that like I can help it. I may talk a lot, but you're the one here that has a way with words, Dia. Even if you don't think you do."

Her laugh is quiet and a bit strangled from the swelling in her throat and how winded she is from their kisses, but she's grinning from ear to ear. It's a big, doofy smile that she can't control even if she wanted to; she can feel her dimples hurting and her face growing hotter as she rubs their noses together and Dia puts her hand on her cheek. She's not outright sobbing, not again, but she can feel her vision getting misty even as Dia points it out.

She adjusts her positioning on the couch when Dia strokes her face, finally turning to get a good look at her face. Dia's so beautiful that she can hardly stand it, even when she's short of breath like this. Especially when she's short of breath like this.

She can't help herself. She kept herself from being physical the whole way back to the hotel; surely Dia will reward her patience a little more, won't she?

"I like you."

Her fingers run upwards through Dia's long, dark hair as she grips at a fistful of it to kiss her yet again. She's not rough, but she can't help herself. She moves herself in, as close as she can, so their bodies can touch, so Dia can grip her just a bit more tightly.

"I love you."

A fifth kiss. The word practically dances off her tongue, still a bit numbed from the hot tea that she hurriedly took a sip of. It's not an intentional whisper; the last thing she wants is her love for Dia to be a secret, she wants to shout it to the world, but she's so short of breath that it comes out in a silken, hushed, low tone before she brings her lips to hers yet again.

"I admire you."

Her free hand finds its way to Dia's leg, running up and down her thigh when as she kisses her a sixth time. She can already feel herself getting light-headed, but she can hardly bring herself to care. This feels way too good for her to even think about it. Dia's right; she does act on her whims too much, but when every part of her is craving this, begging and pleading for her lips to touch Dia's just one more time, she's not quite strong enough to resist that temptation.

Neither of them are probably looking at the window; after all, the real view is what's happening inside, not out, but it looks like the fog's finally managed to break, just in time for dusk.