"Oh let us not get so crass, madonna. Did you not say that the mood was nice?" Her kiss is beautiful, it is the only way he can describe it, delivers an odd feeling of floating and when she parts he feels that it is done far too soon. When she begins to pull away, he holds her fast to his chest, feels the soft ruffles of her dress against him, wants to kiss her more but instead looks down at her.

There is something in him that surges in his belly whenever he looks at her. The urge to protect, the urge to surround and the urge to care for and love. He swallows it down, presses a kiss to her cheek gently and loosens his grip back to that of the soft swaying.

He hums low in his throat, pulling away so that their hands still hold, but just by finger tips before spinning her back into his chest.