His whisper pulled her closer, like a call to lean in so that she could hear him properly. And he was smiling, looking as goofy as she was starting to feel; her heart thudded suddenly. He really was going to be the end of her, if so inconsequential a moment could do this to her. "I know," she whispered back. Her eyes flicked from his eyes, warm and caring, to his lips, and-- a single kiss couldn't hurt. Closing her eyes, Amber crossed the remaining distance, her arm against the side of his chair for support. His lips were soft; Amber could smell his cologne and sunlight. God, what had she been thinking, putting off their next encounter for two days, when she couldn't go twenty minutes without needing to touch him.