i'm going to hell for this but i dont care
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When they kiss, it tastes like salt. It starts as a firm press of lips, unmoving, simply crushing together with the force of their longing and the stillness of it all gives rise to the rest of their senses. Laudna can hear the soft rustling of leaves and petals as they gently pulse in time with her heartbeat; she can hear the way Imogen’s sniffling breaths are becoming strained through the tear-swollen inflammation of her sinuses; she can feel each and every square inch of hot, sweat-slicked skin that tingles against hers with suppressed electricity; she can see the steady pulse of her light radiating through her closed eyelids; she can smell the mouthwatering sweetness of Imogen’s skin, hints of lavender and vanilla, and she would devour her if she could, wants her, needs to consume, needs to taste her, Gods, she’s so hungry-