[ Matthias' morsel is still untouched on the plate. Enraptured by her delight — good Fjerdan boys do not stare, but then, good Fjerdan boys do not curl up around witches who yell at them, steal money, and promise to explain what waffles are, when also promising so much else. ]
[ His eyes flick down to her lips, lightly dusted with the sugar powder. What if he would like to lean across and kiss her, tasting the sweetness? Heat does not rise in his cheeks — this isn't the pull he so desperately has to shut the door on and pray for the full measure of his restraint — but something well-protected, warm. Like a natural instinct. ]
[ Matthias does not do that. Instead, he looks at what's on his own plate and starts to nibble at it. ]
no subject
[ His eyes flick down to her lips, lightly dusted with the sugar powder. What if he would like to lean across and kiss her, tasting the sweetness? Heat does not rise in his cheeks — this isn't the pull he so desperately has to shut the door on and pray for the full measure of his restraint — but something well-protected, warm. Like a natural instinct. ]
[ Matthias does not do that. Instead, he looks at what's on his own plate and starts to nibble at it. ]