(kiss day) hildalys, AU

One thing that they both shared, is the mutual wants to let themselves known at the right time and the right place. It was an unwritten rule, and usually, usually, they would know about when it happened, as it would simply click, fall into one place like a brick lane of domino.

Hilda remembered that she was in the middle of answering text messages from Claude when Lysithea, dropping herself to her lap after her mug of coffee hit the table, then the snow-haired woman just crashed their lips together.

Lysithea didn't shy away from the first, her press was insistent, caffeinated, intoxicating; the taller woman wrapped her arms at the back of the neck as she continued on peppering.

The pinkette dropped her phone, calming as the soft thud from the sofa welcomed. Then, she roamed her fingers on the hips, close but far from pulling the shirt or tracing the skin. Lysithea was basically grinding on her lap, as though they could get even closer than how they already are on the sofa.

When the snow-haired woman nibbled on her lower lips now, asking for access about as fast as she could, but Hilda broke the kiss, catching her own breath. Those red eyes were half-lidded now behind the spectacles, hers shouldn't be that far different.

It wasn't because the suddenness or the urgency of the kiss took Hilda aback, no. She knew where her roommates, her girlfriend is getting onto, but she couldn't help but to ask.

"Impatience today, aren't we?" Hilda gave Lysithea's forehead a soft bump with her own. "Or, were you drunk from the coffee?"

Lysithea shook her head. "I," she rasped. "I ... simply wanted you. Want you. And I don't know why I can't stand it while I was at the kitchen making a coffee for myself."

"I see," Hilda sneaked a chaste one. "Will the couch suffice?"

"We can always go on the floor." Oh, Lysithea.

"Do remove your glasses, though. It hurts."

"But, you said you didn't mind the hurt?"

"Well, that's ... beside the point."

"Hilda, stop stalling."

"Awright, awright!"

They ended up spilled on the floor anyway; another unwritten rule: a single couch never enough.