( with the all-important (and possibly a little dangerous) hot food now safely deposited into the oven, kimberly doesn't hesitate to let her arms loop around his neck, palms smoothing out against his back and shoulders. what he starts, she meets; they wind up just as snug as the last time they'd been together, with only the addition of his apron between them this go-around.
he's, perhaps, opened the floodgates a little, but kimberly's not complaining. instead, she only smiles a little wider, a little more mischieviously, and arches onto her tiptoes again, murmuring, ) Skip the pie. ( she's not really a pie person anyway, if she's totally honest, and wine has never been her favorite thing. it's an acquired taste, and she hasn't had much opportunity to acquire it. she is only eighteen, after all. )
Oh, and set a timer, yeah?
( because if he doesn't... well, burning dinner isn't exactly a good date experience. )
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he's, perhaps, opened the floodgates a little, but kimberly's not complaining. instead, she only smiles a little wider, a little more mischieviously, and arches onto her tiptoes again, murmuring, ) Skip the pie. ( she's not really a pie person anyway, if she's totally honest, and wine has never been her favorite thing. it's an acquired taste, and she hasn't had much opportunity to acquire it. she is only eighteen, after all. )
Oh, and set a timer, yeah?
( because if he doesn't... well, burning dinner isn't exactly a good date experience. )