The fireflies didn't care.
They drifted through the treeline in lazy constellations, cold green light pulsing slow and indifferent, and the moon laid itself flat across the surface of the spring in a long silver sheet that broke and reformed around the two figures at its center. Kissing sounds carried over the water; soft, and wet, Nathan's mouth working Ayame's with a thoroughness that had long since dissolved whatever composure she'd arrived with.
"Hmm— mm— hmmnn—"
Her moans came out muffled against his lips, swallowed before they could fully form, her body pressed so close against him that she could feel his heartbeat against her breasts. He held her with one arm locked at her back, immovable, and kissed her like he was in no particular hurry and had already decided how the night ended.
