“One step at a time,” he repeated in murmured agreement, as Elsie kissed his cheek, “but always forwards.”

“You’d better,” Tyb added, the corner of his mouth quirking before she leant in to kiss him properly, which tied up the conversation with as neat a bow as anything. Kissing her back, he felt himself caught again between that tiredness - of the hour and of their situation - and the strange awakeness of being alone here with her, in some kind of dreamland, somewhere outside of society, where there were no consequences and nothing could go wrong.

Tyb let his fingers bury themselves a little deeper in her hair as his other hand tightened around her waist, distantly aware at how they had been wasting time in talking, and that sooner or later, she should probably go. But, truthfully, that conversation had been as dangerous as any kiss; more dangerous, almost, because now it had made him greedy for a future that they might well be risking even now.

At least they had been well-behaved (enough) at the ball. And as long as they didn’t fall asleep here, Elsie being here a little while longer couldn’t hurt.

---