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Sully had no idea what had possessed her to do it—to kiss Virion, of all people.
Well, she did know: he was attractive and she was attracted to him, and it was all very stupid. She knew better than to be attracted to the kind of guy who could talk the hind leg off of a mule, and probably do it in iambic pentameter without actually realizing he was doing it. (Or maybe he would know he was doing it, which was equally awful, when she thought about it.)
He'd been talking about something or another—comparing her hair to a fiery sunset, which was ridiculous but also kind of flattering in a really stupid, ridiculous sort of way—and the urge had struck her to kiss him.
Maybe if she hadn't been staring at his lips as he talked, the thought would not have crossed her mind. (Maybe different thoughts would have crossed her mind, instead.)
But once she'd grabbed his cravat and pulled him close, there was no going back.
The kiss started out innocent enough, and she had fully intended to just—well, to test things out a bit, like she might test a new opponent in a sparring match. She didn't know what to expect, after all. But somehow things had gotten a little out of hand. She blamed Virion for that, for shutting up and kissing her like he was trying to impress her.
(The sad part was that she was impressed.)
One hand wasn't sure what it wanted to do, but the other curled around his neck, fingers twisting in his hair.
Virion was speechless when they finally broke apart.
The look on his face was what did her in: his slightly swollen lips, the dumbfounded look on his face. She laughed, and it was the least attractive laugh she'd ever heard herself make, but there was nothing about the situation that wasn't funny.
"Well, Ruffles," she said, grinning like an idiot, "now I know how to get you to stop babbling."
Virion opened his mouth.
"—Temporarily, anyway," she admitted.