She leaned in further.
Closing the distance between their lips.
He moved at once.
His hand came up and pressed over her mouth.
Her lips met his palm.
Warm.
She didn't pull back.
Didn't even pause.
Her eyes stayed on his.
Red. Steady.
Waiting.
"No," he said.
She blinked once.
Slow.
He didn't move his hand.
Didn't ease the pressure.
Her breath pushed lightly against his palm. It came steady.
Unhurried.
She kept looking at him.
Just there.
Then she leaned back.
Not far.
Enough that his arm had to follow for a second before he let it drop.
His hand fell away.
She stayed on his lap.
One second.
Two.
Her eyes still on his.
Then she shifted.
Slid off him.
No rush.
She sat back beside him.
Picked up her chopsticks.
Took a piece of meat from his plate.
Ate.
No comment.
No glance.
The room settled again.
He looked at the table.
The marks on the wood. The edge of the plate. The place where her hand had been.
His fingers curled once, then stilled.
