Instead of kissing Byleth throughout, he laid his head against Byleth's shoulder, brushing his fingers through Byleth's hair, memorizing the color and texture of it. Was it more like the color of the sky during a storm, or was it more like the wing of a raven? He carded his fingers through that short hair over and over, closing his eyes so he could concentrate more of the feel than any other sensation.

草泥马的看哭了