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[ Her dress was more uncomfortable than she was willing to admit, but it was incredibly flattering, too: such were the pains of being a socialite and attending parties as fancy as these. Oh, well- the other women looked just as uncomfortable, too, when they were sure that no one was looking, but it was all for the sake of beauty, she guessed.

The drink in her hand was more of a prop than anything else, more alcoholic than she had originally anticipated. It was that and the combination of the heat and bustle of the party that had her a little light headed, but despite it all, she was having fun, too.

So Michiru slips in to stand next to Haruka, gently interrupting the blond from whatever-the-hell-it-is she's doing. ]

Are you having fun?

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[ she exhales shallowly at the touch, before pursing her lips together and tugging them back into an unaffected smile. her hand finds the small of Michiru's back. ] Just a little, huh?

Is it so bad to say I'd rather you only talk to me?

[ She's leaning in, just a little bit. ]

No. I think it's cute.

[ she does the same, so close she's able to feel Michiru's breath against her skin -- but not quite enough to close the gap. ]

Cute. That makes it sound so childish.

[ So what if she's the one to close the distance, to lean up and just barely ghost her lips against Haruka's jaw. ]

[ Haruka swallows. the kiss is not nearly enough, it's hardly anything at all, but her skin is buzzing, more sensitive than it has any right to be. her fingers curl at the back of Michiru's dress; the forefinger and thumb of her other hand hook beneath Michiru's chin, tilting her head higher up and holding it there. ] Are you saying you're more serious about me than that?

[ She yields to Haruka's hand, movement careful, and oh, oh, when did they get so close? It seems so much more intense now that she's making eye contact with her, and her eyes go half-lidded. ]

I'm simply saying that I would never call it cute.

[ Her voice is soft. She leans in to her, careful. ]

Mm. You smell nice.

[ they're too close, right now, for Haruka to even consider formulating a response. even if she were to try, it's like her mind has been shaken empty.

doesn't matter. any more words would just be a waste, anyway. she can feel the warmth radiating from Michiru's skin. there's no point in keeping up the pretence of holding back.

she kisses her. ]

[ Even drunk, and a little clumsy, this is more than she had imagined that it could be, even better despite the taste of whiskey on Haruka's lips. She pushes up into her, not quite aggressive, but certainly with a marked bit of hunger.

This is probably a mistake, and not one they'll allow themselves to make again, so she is going to take full advantage of it. ]

[ Michiru's mouth is sticky-sweet with lipgloss and the drink she's had, and Haruka presses her closer and parts her lips against hers, immediately seeking more. things like pacing herself, like refinedness and restraint -- she can't bring herself to care about any of them. how many times has she thought of doing just this? how many times have they had to pull away from fear of bridging this remaining, paper-thin bit of distance?

time after time after time, until it's finally become too many to bear. and now that the dam's been broken, Haruka can't remember how to pull away anymore. ]

[ Usually, Michiru would take her cue from Haruka. They flirted, yes, but it was always to a point- there was always a moment where they cut it off, right before the last moment-

But they're not. Haruka isn't stopping, and neither is Michiru; the thought of it at this exactly moment is almost too much to bear. So she just presses her hand into Haruka's arm, fingers gripping the fabric of her sleeve, tense but sincere. ]

[ Haruka can feel the dull sting of Michiru's perfectly-shaped nails through the fabric of her suit, the tension in the clenching of her fingers. she hums against her mouth like she's trying to reassure her, a low, smooth noise, and her hand slips from Michiru's back to her hip.

Haruka gently shifts her weight forward, taking one step, two, until she's got Michiru pressed against the corridor's wall. she's steadily running out of breath, but she doesn't want to break away, even when the kiss has fizzled out into a series of clumsy nuzzle-pecks, punctuated with gasps. ]

Haruka-

[ She has the cool firmness of the wall behind her and Haruka's warmth in front as she responds to the scattered kisses with desperate little ones of her own, and it occurs to her then that she doesn't like the way the other girl's name had sounded on her lips there. It was too needy- pathetic-

She tries again, a little firmer: ]

Haruka.

[ 'We shouldn't be doing this' is what her tone pretty clearly implies, except her face is at Haruka's cheek again, then at the side of her throat, dozens of little kisses as she maps her throat with her lips. ]

[ Haruka likes the way it sounds, the first time-- it sends a shuddering heat to the pits of her stomach, makes her want to press Michiru harder into the wall and take, all tongue and teeth and fingers that dig hungrily into skin.

but then the second time comes as a reprimand, and the feverishness that just threatened to take over her stills, closes itself up and burrows deep within her. Haruka doesn't want to think about the consequences that will follow, she doesn't want to think about anything that would cause her to hesitate -- but the moment Michiru tells her to stop, even if only in tone, she stops.

she goes to take a step back, but Michiru's lips touch to her skin, and she's instantly rooted in place. her mind hazed-over, Haruka falters, not sure what she should do, and ultimately decides that it should be all right to do nothing, just for a moment or two.

keeping still, she allows herself to relax as Michiru kisses her; her eyelids flutter, breath coming out shallow through her lips, and her body slouches forward slightly, until the top of her head comes to rest against the wall. her thumb brushes up Michiru's side, tracing the seam of her dress with uneven, slow distractedness.

Michiru's lips are soft. this is nice. warm. ]

[ It's a pity, she thinks, that she's only brave enough to do this when she's drunk- but maybe alcohol is the only thing that could make her stupid enough to give in at the same time. Haruka goes mostly still and Michiru answers with a grateful sound, yearning and almost sad. She wants this, wants her, wants something so much more concrete than a clumsy kissing session against the wall.

But part of her is afraid to stop, afraid of the conversation that inevitably will follow this.

So she stays it, as well as she can, turning to touch her hand to Haruka's cheek and to kiss her properly on the mouth again, breath soft. ]

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