[ he doesn't often feel impressed with much that he does, but the tiny, dusty flicker of confidence in him responds to he abandoning sweets in favor of doing this. (yes!) funny, the pressure of their lips together smeared some of the whipped cream aside, requiring him to tip his head to lap it away, curving it back towards her lips to continue what they'd started.
it's gentle, but he tugs at her hair, wishing he'd had the foresight to set the dessert down before diving in. ah, well. one less hand to work with. he'll grant himself another minute of this before he worries about that, nipping her bottom lip. ]
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it's gentle, but he tugs at her hair, wishing he'd had the foresight to set the dessert down before diving in. ah, well. one less hand to work with. he'll grant himself another minute of this before he worries about that, nipping her bottom lip. ]