[Maybe her breath does smell like popcorn. Maybe the scent of it will always remind him of her, now - and, all right, maybe it's not the most romantic scent in the world, but there are worse ones! Oddly enough, in spite of all his self-esteem issues, Atsushi doesn't worry about all those trivial things. Worry about what he'll do, yes; worry about what he is, not so much. Strange, that - but then, he does have some serious inner strength, even if it takes an odd shape more often than not.
He, too, enjoys those few seconds of looking into her eyes... far, far more than he has any right to. Is this really what it's like? Does everyone get this kind of experience? He's never really considered it for himself before he met her - which at least has kept him from developing any insecurities in that regard. No need to worry about things like his breath when he never expected that anyone would want to kiss him in the first place.
He doesn't wait long, a little too eager, though he doesn't rush, either. He just bridges that small remaining distance between them, closing his eyes when he does as if he'll lose his nerve otherwise, and presses his lips against hers - this time, much more relaxed than during their first attempt.
He's still not entirely sure where to take it from there, but he holds still for now, eyes still firmly closed, his feelings overflowing from his lips to hers - or that's what it feels like he's doing, rather desperately, as if it's the only way to make her understand.
He could just tell her. Maybe he should tell her. But putting something he hardly understands himself into words is hard, and this? This feels like it covers everything.]
Better than before, anyway. Yay being able to eat!
He, too, enjoys those few seconds of looking into her eyes... far, far more than he has any right to. Is this really what it's like? Does everyone get this kind of experience? He's never really considered it for himself before he met her - which at least has kept him from developing any insecurities in that regard. No need to worry about things like his breath when he never expected that anyone would want to kiss him in the first place.
He doesn't wait long, a little too eager, though he doesn't rush, either. He just bridges that small remaining distance between them, closing his eyes when he does as if he'll lose his nerve otherwise, and presses his lips against hers - this time, much more relaxed than during their first attempt.
He's still not entirely sure where to take it from there, but he holds still for now, eyes still firmly closed, his feelings overflowing from his lips to hers - or that's what it feels like he's doing, rather desperately, as if it's the only way to make her understand.
He could just tell her. Maybe he should tell her. But putting something he hardly understands himself into words is hard, and this? This feels like it covers everything.]