It's not a storybook, like her mother's little romance novels she sometimes snuck to her room. Her jumpsuit itches and somewhere in the back of her head it registers that Steve's hands are less holding her and more, hanging in the air beside her like the uncertain question of just what she had been doing these past weeks and months with Steve.

To Morgana, flirting was a game, boys like her, hell, some girls liked her too but she had always been out of reach.

No one had ever dared to press their lips to hers, and she had never offered.

Not until tonight, until her countless weeks of flirting with Steve while being her friend had come to this, with her hand on his jaw and her lips against his. It was never really the plan. She had flirted with Arthur since they were children mimicking the way the adults acted in court. She flirted with knights, suitors, hell even a few people here...

But nothing had ever compelled her to take such a leap of faith.

His lips were so soft that she forgot herself for a little while, forgetting her uncertainty, forgetting that she may have just made their friendship the most awkward thing in the entire complex... forgetting all her troubles. Just for a moment.

Until she realised his hands were still hovering uncertainly, so she pulled back from him, breaking the kiss but with her hands still lingering.

Morgana tried to speak but came up flustered, blushing as she failed to start her sentence twice before she managed. 'Are you okay?' or did she fuck this up, like she had so many things before?