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Her hand was pulled away, and lifted up out of sight. She tilted her head to follow it, her expression vividly curious now that she'd fallen into a lull of peaceful comfort. When he kissed them, she waited, as if something was supposed to happen afterward. When it did not, she let out a stunningly out of place chuckle.

"I always thought kissing would hurt." She admitted, pulling her hand down to look at it. There, on the skin that he'd just kissed, she saw nothing, and felt no pain. It made her chuckle again.

"Maybe it still would, in any other case." She rested the hand back on his chest, against the heart. This time, she felt the pulse, though she couldn't tell the difference between it's quickening beat and the one she'd felt before. It was still a pleasant thrum, radiating warmth against her fingertips.

"Certainly it would. I don't think I'll test that theory, though. I'm rather partial to the knowledge that you're different."

"Because everything else does." She easily pointed out, as if it was somehow obvious. "Everything else feels wrong, and it hurts when I let - " His fingers brushed against her cheek, and she realized that it must have been the first time anyone had ever touched her cheek as far as she could recall, and possibly even further than her memory allowed. It stopped her words with a sharp inhale, and she held her breath, waiting for pain to burn across her face. Instead, she felt the heat of her skin rising to a blush.

"Let - " The word was repeated, but that was as far as she got. His face drew nearer, and her eyelids fluttered of their own accord, as if some primal code already understood what was happening, and how to respond to it. Her eyes refocused on his, blinking to keep from shutting completely. Her focus was intense, and she never even realized that he'd moved her veil - or remembered that she had a veil in the first place - before it was too late.

While his eyes shut on her, hers only widened. She was being kissed, a true and honest kiss, and she knew the whole point of her veil had been to block something so basic from happening, because she could tell from the moment that his lips pressed against hers that she would never want to wear it again. There was a point to the soft shift of cloth, and it was to keep her from realizing what she could have known all along.

This moment was what they lived for.

He pulled away and she followed, unsure as to why it was important to end the moment he'd begun. But then she saw the look in his eyes, and read too much from his expression. There was in that one look the reminder that the expression too much of a good thing existed for a reason.

She looked down at his lips, just once, and then back up at him again. Her eyes refused to close.

"Let."

The repeated word escaped her one final time, in a breathy, heated exhale.

He was asking her to try and put together sentences to express how she felt, when all she'd managed was a single word, repeated three times, since the moment he'd touched her face. That was cruel.

She tried, however. Her lips parted to say something, and his finger brushed along the tender skin, stealing her words away yet again. This was difficult, almost challenging. Words required solid, cohesive thought, and her mind had nothing but white noise running through it.

So she shrugged, which would likely be a disappointing answer, if not for the way her eyes glimmered with infatuation. Really, she should have known better than to think she needed to say a word. One look spoke volumes, if he was clever enough to read them.

Innocent as she was, Riley was a quick, clever thing - and her eyes narrowed to slits the moment he teased her, heavily aware of how much he was enjoying his position even if she still couldn't talk about it. Her lower lip disappeared between her teeth, and she reached up to smack her hand weakly against his cheek, in the most pathetic of slaps that ever existed. It's ineffectiveness was further ruined by the fact that her hand remained there, fond in it's press against his face. It froze there when he returned to her, and her eyes widened again.

This time, it wasn't surprise that had her staring. She knew she shouldn't be thrilling in such a way, as a man kissed her. She knew her heart should have been shuddering with horror, instead of delight. She should have cried at the loss of her virtue, instead of melting into the warm ambrosia of his kiss. She knew all of these things, and knew that she knew nothing, anymore.

This world held something personal to her, now. Something dear. She clung to it, just as she clung to him, and let the world shift back into it's new position.

When it did, and only then, her finally eyes fluttered shut. She decided when they parted; or if they parted. It was hard to tell if it ever did happen, because time had become a fluid and unstable notion to her when he kissed her. She couldn't actually tell if it had been a minute, or an hour.

She kissed him, and knew that was when to pull away. So she did, if only to bury her head down as far as she could and bite the bubble of giggling away before it escaped -

Oops. Too late.

He wanted to see her, and all she wanted to do was hide. She forced herself to stop giggling before she dared look at him again, so that when she turned her head up, her eyes did not focus directly on his lips. Instead, they managed to work their way back up to his, even if it was a struggle. She breathed out a shuddered exhale of air, and used every ounce of her strength to not look away. Eventually she shivered in his arms, and her lips cracked into a weak smile.

"I have a confession." Her voice couldn't have been more than a soft whisper. "But I preface it by saying that the honor of becoming a Great Knight is a noble one, and if you are chosen, I will be proud of you." She sucked in another breath for stability. "But my confession is, I hope you are not picked." She bit her lower lip, quickly amending herself before he could say a word. "I hope that we are not picked."

We. Such a small and simple word. And yet, placed in context, it meant so much.

"It feels extremely wrong." She chuckled out, her head ducking again in embarrassment. "I've never been so selfish. I've never even considered being this selfish. And I should be worried about that."

She lifted her hand up and brushed her finger down the line of his collarbone. She remembered seeing it in the lake, along with more of him. He was so different from her. "I want everyone to live. I want to believe there is a way. I know - I know what Lancelot said, and I know we must prepare for loss, but - "

Her hand fell flat against his neck, and she looked up at him, stubbornly refusing to give up. "There's always a chance, isn't there? That we'll all be fine? That we will persevere without losses? I have to believe in that chance, no matter how small it may be."

And in those few words, she could understand so much. She could understand why Yuki's touch against her skin, her hand, her face, felt like nothing but euphoric tingles. She could understand why she sat there, having moved closer without realizing it until she had all but swung her legs over his, and not feel the imposing sense of fear and loathing at the proximity of another human being. All of these things that never made sense, were completely sensible, with him. She knew it was because his heart was the purest, even purer than hers, and he was no mere man. He was an angel of hope, who held her in his arms and proved to her that if even this miracle was possible, there was nothing in this world that was.

He gave her the hope she so desperately strove for. And she, without question, believed in him.

She sighed, in a lost and infatuated way, and leaned in again. "Yuki," She whispered, her eyelids fluttering as she watched his lips. "May I please have another."

She was done for.

Despite having asked for it, Riley pulled away almost immediately, a hint of frustration evident in her expression. She lifted her hands off of him and brought them to her face, unhooking the thin filament hook that held both sides of her veil in place on either side. She folded the tiny garment up until it was an inch square, and then tucked it away in the folds of her dress. She worked a little too hard on that, because the moment she'd taken the veil off, her face had blossomed into a blush.

"I felt it was time." She admitted, her voice shaking. "Since. It's purpose has been fulfilled. It protected me until I found you." Her eyes lifted to meet his for one single, searing second, before she was forced to look back down again. "But. Now."

Her words were softer, harder to hear in increments as she spoke. So she gave up on trying to speak, and wrapped her arms slowly around his neck. It was easier, this way. She leaned in to steal his lips again, and this time, she thought she would never let go.