Chapter Text
“Good thing Cedric has patrol tonight.” Owen named one of New Hope's sergeants. They'd gone to Owen's room, reasoning that folk were many times more likely to come knocking on the door to Kel's quarters for one reason or another.
“And if it's really something that can't wait until morning,” Kel rationalized, “they'll think of asking for you, next, so they'll find me anyway.”
They shared a look that said, I hate war, but I'm a knight: I know I'm not supposed to think that, and I won't say it, but it's true.
They stood a few feet apart, suddenly awkward. But when Kel crossed the room and rested her hand against Owen's cheek, he put his arms around her waist and pressed his lips to hers.
He kissed her with a strangely passionless intensity, until she broke away and looked at him. “Do you really want to do this?”
“Yes,” he insisted, hugging her tighter. “I guess I'm scared, Kel. What if it's – what if I'm no good?”
“When's your wedding?” she asked.
“What?” He was plainly startled by her question. “After the war, sometime.”
She ran her fingers through his curly hair – easy enough, since they were almost exactly the same height. “Not within the next year, then. Owen, we don't have to rush this.” She kissed him, gentle and slow. Every time his mouth began to open, she drew back, kissing with lips only. “Should we stop here?” she finally asked. “For today, anyway?”
“No,” he said, fiercely, and that time he kissed her properly.