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“Mm.”
“Leona—”
He kisses you.
“Mmfmh… Leona! I was t—”
He kisses you again.
And again. And again.
Thump-thump-thump, you hit his chest. He finally stops.
“I was talking.”
He deadpans, “yeah. But you smelled nice.”
“So you decided to attack me?”
“Addendum. You smelled-like-food kinda nice.”
What leaves your mouth this time aren’t words but instead an indignant huff. So he explains again.
“I was wondering what you had to eat.”
A light-hearted scoff, this time. “Well?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” His lips quirk up, eyes narrowing in what you know as Leona’s asshole face. “I’ll need your permission to find out.”
“Oh, so now we need my permission.”
“Mm.” More kisses, this time on your cheeks, jaw, neck…
You don’t say anything. He looks up, stopping in his tracks. “What’s wrong?”
“You didn’t do that… because you wanted me to shut up, or anything like that. Right?”
You hear a “pfft” right before he gives you a peck. His lips barely meet yours but you already miss them, left only with the way he’s smiling at you—his gaze affectionate, warm like the sun on your skin.
“Nah. I like your rambles.” He kisses your cheek again. “Jus’ like your taste more.” Another one.
“So…”
“Hn, I won’t interrupt you this time. Well—” he smirks again— “if you can keep talking while I continue, that is.”
“Wait—”
Uh-oh.