Leliana laughs, quiet and short lived but startlingly real, not the near silent breaths of amusment she allows herself or a false construction for the Game, but an actual laugh.
It feels very strange, and she is silent in the wake of it, bringing the warmth of her hands to slide over Morrigan's waist and rest against her abdomen, Leliana holding herself just fractionally apart to spare Morrigan further chill.
"Forgive my sense of urgency," she finally replies, lips moving against Morrigan's cheekbone, a whisper a intimacy not yet indulged. There is too much wanting, she suspects, on her part, and she is very aware that Morrigan said next time and that it granted her a flare of hope and of longing that she is sure she'll burn herself on.
"Morrigan." An exhale, as her thumbs idly map the plane of skin and Leliana resists the urge to slide her hands upward.
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It feels very strange, and she is silent in the wake of it, bringing the warmth of her hands to slide over Morrigan's waist and rest against her abdomen, Leliana holding herself just fractionally apart to spare Morrigan further chill.
"Forgive my sense of urgency," she finally replies, lips moving against Morrigan's cheekbone, a whisper a intimacy not yet indulged. There is too much wanting, she suspects, on her part, and she is very aware that Morrigan said next time and that it granted her a flare of hope and of longing that she is sure she'll burn herself on.
"Morrigan." An exhale, as her thumbs idly map the plane of skin and Leliana resists the urge to slide her hands upward.