[He looks from Carolina to North, and his smile both warms and gentles when he returns it to Carolina.]
Yeah, he might be. Guess you'll have to be the judge of that, Carolina.
[Their past is there, in the way the pads of his fingers brush her cheek before sliding back through her hair, in the way his palm fits to the side of her face.
But it just gives them the starting point for who they're going to be.
York kisses Carolina--their Carolina, their leader, the girl who'd grabbed his lighter right out of his hand and he'd never looked back--with his hand on North's arm, new and familiar all wrapped up into one, and thinks, leapin' lizards, it's good to be alive.]
[There's no jealousy, watching York and Carolina kiss. How could there be, when he just kissed both of them, when he's still under and between them.
He smiles watching them, the familiarity in York's hand on her cheek, the way they both look so happy. He moves his arm out from under York's hand so that he can thread their fingers together instead, his grip loose and comfortable as he curls their fingers lightly, leaning over to nuzzle York's shoulder, unwilling to interrupt their kiss.]
[And when Carolina pulls away, finally, it's with a smile-- a soft one, unlike she's smiled for such a long time.
She doesn't open her eyes until she's quite sure she isn't going to cry or do something equally ridiculous, and to top it off, she pushes her hand through York's hair to mess it up.]
Mmm, I dunno. One kiss each isn't anything to judge.
[He retreats for a moment from both of them, laughing in spite of himself, but North has one of his hands and the ghost of Carolina's skin is still alive along the fingertips of the other, and it's not like he can really fix his hair without rinsing it and starting over, anyway.
Instead, he just pulls North's hand and his towards the center of his chest (this is his, now, sorry about it); reaches over with that other hand to cradle the side of Carolina's face, rub the pad of his thumb over her skin again, prove that smile's real; and then flicks at her hair, mock-huffy.]
Maybe that's all you get, Carolina. Other people here know how to treat a dude. And a dude's hard-maintained hair.
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[He looks from Carolina to North, and his smile both warms and gentles when he returns it to Carolina.]
Yeah, he might be. Guess you'll have to be the judge of that, Carolina.
[Their past is there, in the way the pads of his fingers brush her cheek before sliding back through her hair, in the way his palm fits to the side of her face.
But it just gives them the starting point for who they're going to be.
York kisses Carolina--their Carolina, their leader, the girl who'd grabbed his lighter right out of his hand and he'd never looked back--with his hand on North's arm, new and familiar all wrapped up into one, and thinks, leapin' lizards, it's good to be alive.]
no subject
He smiles watching them, the familiarity in York's hand on her cheek, the way they both look so happy. He moves his arm out from under York's hand so that he can thread their fingers together instead, his grip loose and comfortable as he curls their fingers lightly, leaning over to nuzzle York's shoulder, unwilling to interrupt their kiss.]
no subject
She doesn't open her eyes until she's quite sure she isn't going to cry or do something equally ridiculous, and to top it off, she pushes her hand through York's hair to mess it up.]
Mmm, I dunno. One kiss each isn't anything to judge.
no subject
[He retreats for a moment from both of them, laughing in spite of himself, but North has one of his hands and the ghost of Carolina's skin is still alive along the fingertips of the other, and it's not like he can really fix his hair without rinsing it and starting over, anyway.
Instead, he just pulls North's hand and his towards the center of his chest (this is his, now, sorry about it); reaches over with that other hand to cradle the side of Carolina's face, rub the pad of his thumb over her skin again, prove that smile's real; and then flicks at her hair, mock-huffy.]
Maybe that's all you get, Carolina. Other people here know how to treat a dude. And a dude's hard-maintained hair.