[Sometimes, she's struck with wonder at how easily Matthias talks. He feels things, and they come out of his mouth without a second thought. Even if he is embarrassed--maybe?--at some of them, he says what he feels and does not take any of it back. She cannot fathom doing the same, admitting when I am close to falling asleep, I think of you and the shadows in my room seem less empty. Not in words, at least. He just says it.
But at that moment, she is unsure she can endure many more stumbling attempts at...whatever Matthias is trying to convey. (Happiness, and surprise, and more happiness, all of it matching a sort of relief in her. She wants to be here next to him and also to be alone, all at once--but she wants the former more than the latter.) Words seem like an ineffectual tool for their purposes.
So she leans over and kisses him. Not like their first kiss: this is is light, soft, without a mission to determine the length it lasts. As such, it does not last nearly as long--but she likes it better. When she pulls away again, she is as serious as always, but her voice is gentle.]
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But at that moment, she is unsure she can endure many more stumbling attempts at...whatever Matthias is trying to convey. (Happiness, and surprise, and more happiness, all of it matching a sort of relief in her. She wants to be here next to him and also to be alone, all at once--but she wants the former more than the latter.) Words seem like an ineffectual tool for their purposes.
So she leans over and kisses him. Not like their first kiss: this is is light, soft, without a mission to determine the length it lasts. As such, it does not last nearly as long--but she likes it better. When she pulls away again, she is as serious as always, but her voice is gentle.]
We should taste the pie.