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Clare leans against the bar as she listens to Spartan's speech. Certain lines provoke her face to flushing crimson and hot, and her green eyes shooting furtively to Dom. By the end of it, she's turned entirely to the Fairest, but is still partially frozen with indecision. Is he my lover, could he count as it? Could he become mine? Thoughts cased each other in circles in her brain as she lifted her green eyes to his blue.
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Dominyk listened, his blue eyes trailing across the faces of those gathered, before finding the eyes of his own Summer flower blooming perfect in the midst of summer’s hall. He felt, different, a winter before summer and still holding all of his snowflakes.
He found her eyes, the slightest bit of obvious behind them, and he reached for her. She wouldn’t pull away this time, and she wouldn’t punch him either.
“Clare?”
With one hand he tilted her head back gently and kissed her.
A declaration.
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She kisses back. What else could she do, when she wanted this now? It's still soft and just a touch hesitant until Clare steps closer and wraps her arms around him. She was going to savor this moment.
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