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[ Oh no, eye contact... He softens under her gaze, and really he can't help himself now. He tugs her hand past him and rolls onto an elbow so he can give her a proper kiss, soft and lingering. ]

And I can never be too close to you, Noire. Funny that we didn't do this sooner.

I don't think the building would have let us.

[ And it's been far too long for her, so after a few seconds, she moves in close again to kiss him again. ]

[ That earns her a throaty chuckle, though he's only too happy to oblige. He leaves her hand on his waist, the better to slip his own into her hair and chase the kiss with another.

[ They probably should have brought a chaperone along, since the noise Noire makes is anything but discouraging. It's occurred to her, more than once, that they'll be truly separated one day-- but for now, she'll keep this with her, commit all of this to memory as she meets him kiss for kiss. There may be a note of relief there, something welcoming. He's been missed. ]

[ It's a nice note, one that doesn't go unnoticed; neither does the noise she makes, and he flushes in the dim. But it encourages his hand to roam down her neck and side with a leisure at odds with his racing heart, bordering on shy. Somehow, being in a little space like this compels him to nudge a little closer, feel a little more of her warmth. It's a pressing urge, moving more and more to the forefront of his consciousness.

A chaperone might have been... a really good idea...... ]

[ It's because he's so slow and careful that Noire wonders at it, even as she sinks into the warmth of his hand, wriggles closer, and rests her palm against his chest.

His heart-- ]

... Are you all right?

[ None of that is really helping his situation, Noire... If anything, the rise and fall of his chest becomes more pronounced. He mentally flounders for a second because everything is super okay but also maybe too okay?? It's just a very loaded question at the moment. ]

Um... all right. Perfectly all right. Why wouldn't I be all right?

[ gosh it's not like he's outrageously attracted to her or anything ]

[ no of course not. ]

I just didn't want you to push yourself, if you're tired or-- [ she's trying to spare you her passion, Morgan!! ]

[ BUT HE WANTS IT... which is part of the problem, granted. ]

N-no, it's not that. [ Which is basically admitting that there's something after all, DAMMIT MORGAN worst tactician. ] I'm the opposite of tired! With you... that is, like this, it's very, um, captivating. You're captivating!

Captivating-- [ okay, she might have squeaked that out, fingers flexing against his chest. ] I-I think that's a good thing, since you are too...

Of course it's a good thing! [ He rubs a thumb on her side, soothingly. ] It means you have my undivided attention. Not that you don't always, but...

[ Buuut. Then there's all these dumb boy feelings. He pinks and shakes his head. ]

Anyway, don't mind me.

Don't say that... [ she shakes her head in return, reaching over to trace his cheekbone. ] You're always on my mind, anyway.

... I know. [ It's a big part of why he felt so guilty to begin with, after all. He has dozens and dozens of pieces of evidence on his phone.

Her bare fingers are sweet on his cheek. He savors the feeling before ducking his head and nosing his way under her chin, pressing his lips here and there on the tenderness of her neck. ]

I love you, Noire. [ Murmured, of course, into said neck. ]

[ Most times, she's grateful that the neck of her shirt is higher than most-- although the girls, save Morgan, had generally worn the same. Right now, with the other Morgan sweetly attending to every bare patch of skin, Noire isn't sure whether she's grateful that there isn't too much or oddly irritated by it.

It's hard to dwell on it either way, and her breath hitches in a soft, startled gasp that sounds far too embarrassing to her reddened ears. Still-- ]

I love you, too... saying it doesn't feel like e-enough, though.

[ Her embarrassment is his enjoyment, and he smiles at her gasp and stutter. It's gratifying to know he can have an effect on her, and also it's just so darn cute. He nudges her at the waist, gently encouraging her onto her back. ]

We've expressed it in other ways at least once or twice, I think.

[ Or, like. Every moment they've been alone. Like so. ]

[ Don't remind her-- even though everything about this is totally doing just that. Noire sputters a bit, but follows the careful cue, inching herself further down until she's flat on her back. ]

W-well-- yes, we have, and I'm, um... grateful--

[ He wastes no time crawling over to straddle her -- before she can get settled, even -- but slows down a smidge as her stuttering intensifies. He moves a hand to brush the hair from her forehead. ]

You seem a little nervous. [ Part teasing, part actual observation. ]

[ the urge to close her eyes and simply focus on the gentle pass of his palm is a strong one, but Noire somehow, valiantly, resists it, blinking up at him. Softly, she exhales. ]

... I am. I feel like if I'm not careful when you're this close, I might have a hard time, um... holding back.

[ He pauses with his hand still in her hair, puzzled. ]

Mm? Why are you holding back?

[ LIKE HE'S ONE TO SPEAK ]

[ SHE CAN'T GET ANY REDDER. Which is why she presses her lips together and firmly shakes her head, embarrassed. No, Morgan, you can't make her say it. ]

[ That sure is a reaction. He's only a little curious, not really expecting a concrete answer beyond "It's embarrasing", but he can never resist teasing her when the opportunity's laid out in front of him. He dips to kiss a lazy trail along her jaw, apparently dropping the topic for now -- that is, until he reaches her ear, where he speaks softly. ]

What are you holding back, Noire?

[ That nearly gets her, and she wants to smack him for it, but then smacking would mean he would stop. But maybe that's a good thing.

Noire squirms, feebly, doing her utmost to keep her voice level. ]

I-it's not important--

[ He deserves a smacking, tbh, because nothing else is compelling him to stop. If anything, her pointed refusal to answer makes him more persistent, kissing her earlobe here, tangling a hand in her hair there. ]

Then you might as well satisfy my curiosity, and I'll leave you alone.

[ It registers - dimly - through a growing haze of sensation, but it does hit her rather hard-- and Noire's next noise is half-frustrated, half-distressed. ]

I don't want you to leave me alone! I don't want you to go anywhere at all!

[ That punches him rather nicely, and he pushes himself back up in an instant, jolted. It takes him a moment to realize that his wording wasn't the best; his expression quickly shifts, surprise to regret. ]

I... I didn't mean it like that, Noire. I'm sorry. I'm not going anywhere, I promise.

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