Impossible, [ tseng says, and that's the last he manages to speak before their mouths are pressed together again.
by now he knows there's no point in pretending that he's speaking anything other than the truth: he doesn't think he could grow sick of clorinde if he tried. her presence is a balm for him in so many ways, soothing against aches tseng had forgotten he carried—her quiet smiles, her tender touches, the way she seems to understand and accept even the parts of tseng of which he isn't proud. she had seen the worst moment of tseng's life and instead of recoiling from it, she had held him close, let him lean against her even though tseng hardly believes he deserves it.
how could there ever be words enough to put a name to that kind of feeling?
tseng moves closer, wraps his arms around clorinde's waist to hold her. their bodies press together from chest to hip, and every inch of her is perfectly warm. kissing her, and then kissing her again, does plenty to quiet the maelstrom of thoughts in tseng's mind, leaving him contented and affectionate. full of desire, of course, as he always is with her, but happy to take it or leave it according to clorinde's wishes. ]
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by now he knows there's no point in pretending that he's speaking anything other than the truth: he doesn't think he could grow sick of clorinde if he tried. her presence is a balm for him in so many ways, soothing against aches tseng had forgotten he carried—her quiet smiles, her tender touches, the way she seems to understand and accept even the parts of tseng of which he isn't proud. she had seen the worst moment of tseng's life and instead of recoiling from it, she had held him close, let him lean against her even though tseng hardly believes he deserves it.
how could there ever be words enough to put a name to that kind of feeling?
tseng moves closer, wraps his arms around clorinde's waist to hold her. their bodies press together from chest to hip, and every inch of her is perfectly warm. kissing her, and then kissing her again, does plenty to quiet the maelstrom of thoughts in tseng's mind, leaving him contented and affectionate. full of desire, of course, as he always is with her, but happy to take it or leave it according to clorinde's wishes. ]