Mila tilted her head up to look at Dante after his confession.
His jaw was relaxed, his gaze focused on her face, and his hand was gentle on her back. There was something vulnerable in his expression, something raw that he was letting her see because he'd decided she was worth the risk.
"I know," she agreed softly. She might not have known him all that long, but considering the fact that she would burn down the world for him... right or wrong... she wouldn't question his feelings towards her.
Dante looked down at her then, his eyes meeting hers.
The rawness was still there, but it was tempered now by something more controlled, something more certain. He leaned down and kissed her, and it wasn't urgent or demanding. It was slow, deliberate, like he was memorizing the feel of her mouth against his, like he was trying to communicate everything he couldn't quite put into words.
