To Victor’s surprise, Airlia didn’t shy away or turn and run in the opposite direction. No, instead she held on to him and confessed her own feelings, which matched his perfectly. It was both thrilling and frightening, like jumping into the Black Lake in the middle of winter. That’s what all of this felt like. To speak of love, to allow someone else into his mind… It wasn’t something Victor did often. It wasn’t something he did at all. And it certainly wasn’t something he approved of.

Still, it was hard to take it all back when her small, slender hands, unusually warm despite the cold of the night, settled upon the sides of his face, pulling him into her with a determination he recognized well. And it was at that point that the boy realized: there was no going back. There would be no pulling away from this kiss, from this new darkness he’d submerged into. He’d have to take it, and explore it, and learn to control it as he did everything else.

Merlin. He’d missed those lips more than he’d ever admit. And her hands. And her small waist, which fit so perfectly beneath the palms of his hands. Basically, he’d missed her. Being near her, feeling the warmth of her body close to his… Without a word, the boy pressed her firmly into him, letting himself be taken over by the sudden and overwhelming need of her moist lips, of her gentle curves. He kissed her for a long time, one hand resting gently on her waist, the other pressed more firmly against her back, almost forbidding her to turn away.

Until, finally, he separated his lips from hers. He stared at her for a moment, almost debating with himself what he was about to do. “…C’mon,” he said, taking her hand into his own.