His body was uncharted territory, and Chiaki's fingers were a team of cartographers. She was a person thirsty in the desert and his body was an oasis.
Lance Hua's heavy breathing went past her, going unnoticed as her eyes had been hazy with clouds.
Only after he caught her palm did she look up to him. Those black eyes shone like pearls on the quiet afternoon that filled the manor with the sound of the the calm routine of the garden.
Lance Hua leaned over, leaving a trail of kisses from her forehead, down her nose bridge, and ended up on her cheek.
Chiaki had a widow's peak, so faint and unnoticeable because of the way she wore her fringe, drooping on her forehead to cover it. Lance Hua knew it from many times they stood or sat close to each other, and she always had to tilt her head up to speak to him. The angle allowed him to observe the details.
