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Molly’s head rests on Yasha’s chest, her fingers gently poking and prodding at his horns and jewelry. They brush across his hair gently, fingertips pressing into his scalp for several seconds before the pressure leaves.
His tail lifts up, curling around Yasha’s bicep and merely staying there, the tip flicking occasionally. Molly can feel Yasha smiling, even if he can’t see her face, and that’s enough to keep him contented.
“You always know what I need, darling,” Molly sighs, tilting his head back.
Yasha chuckles as her eyes fall shut, and Molly presses a loud, exaggerated kiss to her cheek.