That smile. It never fails to dissolve her into a giddy school girl, and not just because it's so rare. He has a handful of different smiles she's seen throughout the years - that forced, tight-lipped one he has when he's irritated, the slightly crazed one he gets when he's rearing for a fight, that smug smirk he gets when he's feeling particularly invincible. She can't help but think, though, that this one - the softer, genuinely fond one - is just for her. And she'll take as many of them as she can get.

She still gets goosebumps, after all this time, feeling those warm, calloused hands slide up her skin. She leans into his kiss easily enough, weight propped on her forearms on either side of his head as she presses slow, lazy kisses along his lips.

"Mm, well, she didn't kick either of us out of the party, so I'll call that a win," she teases, dragging her teeth over the curve of his lower lip. To hell with their disapproval. Neither her sister nor her father are in any place to judge, and after a slew of crash and burn relationships, she's allowed to be with a man that makes her happy. Stupidly, undeniably, damn near disgustingly happy.