"Don't push it," Elise muttered, though she made no effort to step away, her fingers still loosely curled in his coat.
He chuckled softly, the sound low in the quiet alcove. "Wouldn't dream of it."
For a while neither of them spoke, content to simply stand there in the hush of the ivy and moonlight, the rest of the academy forgotten beyond the courtyard walls.
Soren's hand found her jaw again, tilting her face up toward his, and this time the kiss was slower, deeper, neither of them in any hurry to pull away.
Elise's fingers curled tighter into his coat, drawing him closer, and he obliged easily, one arm slipping around her waist to close whatever distance remained between them.
"You're going to be the death of me," he murmured against her lips, barely pulling back enough to speak.
"Good," she whispered, "you talk too much anyway."
