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Mira had nearly gone back out into the cold when a single phrase stopped her.
“Maker’s breath.”
Her eyes followed Cullen’s stare upward: whatever it was had turned his face red, and when she spotted the familiar red and green leaves hanging above his door frame marked by delicate, white flowers.
Lovers’ Bloom.
Suspiciously, she observed, hung above the door she used more than any of their companions. She raised a brow and glanced back down at him, a small smile creeping to her face. Lovers’ Bloom came with an array of old wives’ tales: that bad luck would befall those who found themselves beneath it and didn’t share a kiss. Hanging one above a door frame was largely seen as harmless tradition in the Free Marches and Ferelden, and a must within certain Orlesian circles during the appropriate winter holiday.
Allegedly, the Orlesians had found use of it in a number of other festivities as well.
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Sera must’ve left it when she brought me that slice of cake,” he muttered. “I knew better than to turn my back to her. How she managed it so quickly…I didn’t even hear her.” His eyes drifted back down and met hers. “I…we should…”
Mira took a small step towards him, so near she could feel his warmth and his breath on her skin. “We shouldn’t let her efforts go to waste.” A small smile tugged at her lips. “Or did you have other ideas?”
“I…no,” he stammered, his blush deepening. He sighed, his eyes softening as he rested his hands on either side of her waist. A small, crooked smile began to cross his face, too. “I hope you know I always want to kiss you.”
She hummed quietly, closing the distance between them until their noses nearly touched. “Want?” she murmured, warmth fluttering through her at his nearness and the anticipation she already felt against her skin. She tilted her head to the side, taking him in beneath lowered lashes. “Or will?”
She’d known how he’d respond to that even before the spark had reached his eyes. Mira relished the way his lips met hers with such gentle, familiar earnestness. Her arms curved around his neck as he pulled her closer, and she swore she sensed him fighting a smirk in welcome defeat. If they had ever held any secrets between them about how they felt about each other, they had long been revealed. For all the shyness he still showed in the moments she caught him off-guard, Mira knew Cullen had figured out what he did to her—the type of want he stirred up, and the kind she drew from him.
Even when its nature was as simple as this.
She loved leaving him flustered and baiting him to act, but loved even more that he gave back every bit as much. And give he did, she thought as his hold on her remained firm, even as he drew back from the kiss slightly, leaving lingering, softer ones along her lower lip as she placed one more—long and lingering—against the scar at the corner of his mouth.
He could be so juxtaposing at times, she thought, in ways he didn’t even realize. He both steadied and weakened her. Left her feeling stronger and more certain, yet somehow stripped bare. His hands firm and his kisses soft and coaxing…
Mira found herself feeling lighter and breathless when they separated and he rested his forehead against hers.
“Perhaps I should thank Sera next time I see her,” he murmured, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.
“Her intentions usually are for the best.”
He seemed to consider this briefly, his amber eyes soft and flickering with a small hint of mischief. She loved that look; loved the spark it sent through her and the way it warmed her.
“Yours is the only intention I care about.” His thumb traced the underside of her rib, and she shivered at the heat it left as it drew a memory from a few nights prior. She let one of her hands slide to the side of his neck, letting her thumb trace the stubble on his jawline. She knew without him saying it that her touch had taken him back to the same place, and for a moment, she found herself wishing time would slow.
She wished it often these days, especially in these increasingly precious moments they had to themselves.
They both moved too slowly when the door swung open and near-silent footsteps broke them from their trance. The hooded figure watched silently as they separated, a smirk crossing her face as Mira lightly touched her mouth and Cullen flushed again.
“My apologies,” Leliana began, not bothering to hide her amusement in her tone. “My agents had updates on troop movement.” She paused, her eyes drifting upward and locking onto the green that had been tied above the door frame. “Though I think it will be a less interesting development. I’d no idea you had such a knack for decorating, Commander.”
“It’s not staying,” he grumbled, reaching up and taking the thing down. Mira smirked as the spymaster’s relentless gaze followed him, flickering only a moment towards her with a knowing gleam.
“You could put it upstairs,” she suggested, and swore Leliana bit back a laugh as his face turned scarlet.
“Sweet maker, Mira,” he muttered, and gently, she took the bundle of green from his hands.
“Elsewhere, then.” She smiled at him then before nodding to the spymaster, not missing the way his eyes followed her as she began to leave his quarters.
She knew Leliana’s stayed fixed on Cullen even as the door closed behind her, and with every step back to the palace, the warmth from his kiss and touch still stayed.
She would have to hold onto Sera’s gift a bit longer.