His lips linger for a long time, almost too long; a kiss from a man who hasn't kissed anyone in two hundred years and needs desperately to remember what it is like. He begins slowly, cautiously, building speed from long-dormant passion with each moment.
His hand creeps down from Vanyel's shoulder, moving ever downward, his fingers searching and grasping.
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His hand creeps down from Vanyel's shoulder, moving ever downward, his fingers searching and grasping.