Wrapping an arm round her back, Eric imperceptibly nudged her closer to him; Amber went willingly. The diner's lights were not the most flattering, but Eric was still amazingly handsome in the soft, yellow pallor. He looked at her like a naturalist waiting and patient for a butterfly to land on his outstretched hand: inviting but not demanding. Amber's heart beat deep and intense, a drum in her ribcage.

A smile spread on her face. Seemed like they were finally on the same page. "That so?" she asked, matching his serious tone. She turned into him, one hand sliding down his side, the other pressing lightly against his chest. It wasn't comfortable, on seats designed for quick meals and between plastic booth and table, but she wasn't looking for anything long. "Then it's your lucky day."

Amber tilted her head, holding her breath for a second; studied Eric's expectant and hopeful expression. She wanted to remember this moment, how good she felt. But there was no scanning equipment advanced enough to perfectly preserve feelings and sensations, so Amber let herself give up; let herself close the distance and gently press her lips against his like they were old friends reacquainting after decades apart. She tasted the salt of the eggs, the spices of the sausages; she remembered the last time they'd kissed, Sunday, hugging each other so tight and grasping to make the most of every moment. She'd almost asked him to stay, chores and work be damned. His lips were as soft as she remembered; his scent, more intoxicating. Amber could not resist deepening the kiss, wetting his lower lip with her tongue.