He leans over and kisses her, his jet hair with its snow extensions caught back in a black bandanna brushed with spiderweb patterns. He kisses her with the most gentle look, a devotion, an adoration, a complete giving, softer than silk, softer than tenderness, softer than skin, a tenderness that belies his tough bandanna-wrapped look and his chunky boots, his black top with its gratuitious safety pins, his American gangster jaw and his agate eyes. He pulls back and then kisses her again, and again. Soft lips touching soft cheek, so careful not to smudge her, not to blur the edges of her, pressing down on her elegance as if she would shatter and he is where he should be, he is home, he is angel and untouchable and strong.
(for dominicalis and purples)