For the moment, Greta was hardly questioning what she was doing. She hadn't gotten a good look (a look) at the face currently plastered to hers, but good golly, she didn't need to. This was probably the best kiss she'd ever had, and she knew kisses. Not that she was promiscuous, or anything (the opposite, really), but there was nothing she liked better than some intense snogging.
Even after the pleasure-induced haze had lifted, and the part of her that eventually talked Greta into making sound, logical choices began making noise about kissing strange lips at strange parties, her hands fisted into his collar and pinned the wizard right where he was for an extra enjoyable five seconds, or fifteen.
When sense (and a need for air) finally pervaded, she yanked her head back, with eyes the size of saucers. And there was that face. That really nice face, whose really nice lips she'd just been really nicely sucking on. All right, maybe she was a little promiscuous, but this was pushing it! This was pushing it by—a lot! There were—well, other sort-of-boyfriend lips she maybe ought to have been kissing tonight, but definitely, less-confusingly, a date she had to find!
"I—" she began, opening and closing her mouth soundlessly, as all rational thought had fled her about a minute earlier and was seeping back in at the speed of sludge. Most likely from the panic, her fists curled tighter while clutching at his top."You—crikey, are a very—very good at that—thing."
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