“May I?” Wriothesley had whispered moments before, heart beating wildly in his chest as he leaned into Neuvillette’s warmth and allowed the scent of the ocean to embrace him. “…Please.” Came the reply, a thumb brushing across Wriothesley’s lips— and who was he to deny his beloved?

Like waves gently rolling into the shore, they kissed. All sweet touches and loving exploration as moments of yearning finally became reality in a precious, private moment. The build up to the confession had been a gradual one, gifts exchanged and personal meetings (dates) had.