[ As far as the kiss goes, Nie Huaisang is playing Shang Qinghua like a fiddle. The lack of movement lets him focus on the press of lips, the variance of the pressure, and how he does chase after them when they pull back just a little too far.
The flick of a tongue pulls a quick inhale through his nose, and his eyes widen. The kiss to his nose has him turning--if possible--even redder. ]
Y-you... you stopped.
[ He says it as if Nie Huaisang hasn't noticed. He's flustered, and it comes through in his voice. Shang Qinghua hesitates for a moment, his own tongue unconsciously flicking across his own lips.
He isn't sure what he wants to say, so what comes out is, ]
Was that... all that you wanted?
[ He leans forward a little in his own awkward expression of desire unstated. ]
no subject
The flick of a tongue pulls a quick inhale through his nose, and his eyes widen. The kiss to his nose has him turning--if possible--even redder. ]
Y-you... you stopped.
[ He says it as if Nie Huaisang hasn't noticed. He's flustered, and it comes through in his voice. Shang Qinghua hesitates for a moment, his own tongue unconsciously flicking across his own lips.
He isn't sure what he wants to say, so what comes out is, ]
Was that... all that you wanted?
[ He leans forward a little in his own awkward expression of desire unstated. ]