Caelith's eyes fell shut without conscious thought, her arms lifting to encircle his neck as she answered his kiss with hesitant, unpracticed softness.
Between the meeting of lips and breath, the fevered heat of the drug slowly began to ebb. The terror that had gripped her heart loosened its hold, dissolving little by little—until all that remained was the quiet rhythm of shared breathing.
Rhaegar's hand moved gently along her back, from the nape of her neck down to the slender curve of her waist, drawing her closer still, holding her against the steady strength of his chest.
Their foreheads rested together, noses brushing lightly, their gazes still clouded with lingering haze and unspoken emotion. He studied the flush upon her cheeks, then lowered his head to press a soft kiss to her brow.
"I am here," he murmured. "Do not be afraid."
"…Mm."
