I admit I am more than a bit breathless when he finally breaks the kiss, but I am not gasping as he is. Instead my breaths are shallow and slight, barely gathering any proper amount of air into my lungs.

I find I am leaning against him, for support, for balance. And perhaps simply out of a need to be close to him.

I greatly enjoy being close to him.

I lick my lips, and there is something decidedly different there. A new flavor, and I realize that it's him, the lingering touch of his lips.

Oh.

"Kanji," I look at him, then glance past him, over toward his futon. "Could we please sit down for a moment? I find my legs are rather... unsteady."