"9S," she says softly, but she trails off as she stares back at him, feeling perfectly at home with his hands touching her the way they are.

There's so much she wants to say, so much she wants to be sure he knows, but getting there, finding the road to that point, it feels impossible. She doesn't know what she's doing when it comes to her emotions, she's a battle type, she understands action better than anything else.

That's why she takes his hands and pulls them away, but instead of any sort of rejection she's leaning in, curling her hand around the back of his neck, and pulling him gently forward to close the already small space between them.

Very, very gently she presses her lips to his, still unsure how much of this he's done, what he's comfortable with, if it's even okay to kiss him. She doesn't know if he likes kissing, if he likes to be touched by the humans he may have let in. She knows he likes to be near her and she knows, deep down, that he loves her.

She loves him too, and there has been too much lying, too much hidden. This, at the very least, she needs to be honest about.