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the starchess game lays forgotten on the table.
instead, jing yuan is all that has your rapt attention.
he tastes of bitter, bitter tea and sweet, sweet honey, plush lips soft and oh-so-deliciously warm against yours. the scent that clings to his clothes is fragrant jasmine, and you send a thousand thanks to your past self for purchasing that specific perfume.
you like that smell on him, you think. it suits him. you know it will linger about your own person for hours to come, and you don’t mind at all.
and as your lips move to his forehead, to the space under his eyes, to the bridge of his nose, down to the very tip, he laughs, the sound coming from somewhere deep within his chest. it travels throughout your entire body, from your ears to your heart, and all the way down to the tips of your toes, a pleasant warmth spreading through your soul.
“oh?” he hums, nuzzling his nose with yours. “someone’s very, very affectionate today,”
“are you complaining?” you quip, never bothering to stop, littering pecks all over his jawline, on his chin, up to the little mole underneath his eye, trailing featherlight touches in the wake of your kisses. your fingertips trace his sharp features, taking in every curve, every angle, every bump, tenderly drawing shapes into pale skin.
“not at all. on the contrary, i’m rather enjoying it.”
“oh, i know you are.” you smile against his cheek, giggling when his fingers brush your side. “hey,” you chide playfully. “watch the hands, general. you know i’m ticklish.”
“my apologies,” he grins, not a trace of remorse in golden eyes. without warning, he tugs you closer until you rest on his lap, arms finding their way around his neck, returning your affections tenfold. his kisses grace every inch of skin he can find, mirroring the path you followed on his own face.
his eyes flit to yours to make the briefest of contacts with your own, adoration evident in amber, before closing to savor the feel of your cheeks under his lips. subtle whispers of affection for you fall freely and unrestrainedly.
goosebumps rise along the lengths of your limbs, electricity running down your spine. your previous thoughts are but a distant memory; how can you think of anything, when you have jing yuan lavishing you with all the affection in his being?
after what seems like both an eternity and almost no time at all, he pulls away slowly and slightly, eyes lidded, breath shallow. white hair cascades down broad shoulders, ponytail unraveling somewhere in the middle of your exchange, ribbon fallen to the floor. he says nothing for a moment, simply choosing to play with your clothing as his gaze remains fixed on your figure.
“staring is rude, my love,” you tap his nose mischievously.
a slow smile stretches across his face as he moves closer, pressing his forehead to yours. “but admiring a work of art isn’t, my love,” he murmurs against your lips. his voice is gentle, quiet, appreciative; his words cradled by a soft whisper the same way he cradles your face in his warm, calloused hands. “you look wonderful like this. so mesmerizing, i can’t take my eyes off of you.”
the words of admiration that roll off his tongue are sincere, heartfelt, and you know exactly how much he means that. he’s made sure that no matter the circumstance, no matter the situation, you never doubt what he feels for you.
you send a shy smile his way. “you’re beautiful too,” you tell him, just as sincerely, twirling a lock of his hair.
he nudges his shoulder against yours. “then i suppose we make a dazzling pair, don’t we? perhaps we should invest in eye protection for those around us?”
you snort. “i know your pockets are deep, but truly, that’d be a waste of money.”
he throws his head back in laughter. “ah, you’re right.” he says, pretending to consider. “i’m sure they’ll be able to handle our radiance just fine.”
oh, how you wish every moment could be like this one.