[He lets Ashraf speak, but as soon as that last sentence ends, Koltira grabs the other man by the back of the neck and pulls him in -- kisses him full on the mouth.
Koltira's lips are dry and soft, but they are bloodless; to kiss him is to kiss winter. He's not doing this as a punishment, not trying to be rough; in point of fact, he's slow and careful, his fingers not digging but curling into Ashraf's dark hair, his mouth not crushing but fitting, as best he can, against Ashraf's mouth.
His tongue -- cold like the rest of him, undeniably alien -- skirts Ashraf's bottom lip before he pulls away.]
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Koltira's lips are dry and soft, but they are bloodless; to kiss him is to kiss winter. He's not doing this as a punishment, not trying to be rough; in point of fact, he's slow and careful, his fingers not digging but curling into Ashraf's dark hair, his mouth not crushing but fitting, as best he can, against Ashraf's mouth.
His tongue -- cold like the rest of him, undeniably alien -- skirts Ashraf's bottom lip before he pulls away.]
You love a corpse.