Damian thought that she was going to whisper something to him, which is why he let her in that close. He was going to point out to her that whispering is rather moot, in the close presence of a telepath, when.

Well.

His eyes widened, and his chin dropped, a little. And, even though his fist tightened, it wasn't a flinch, or a rejection. Merely surprise, and...

Complicated.

The last person who had come anywhere near to placing lips on him had beet Talia, and that had been extremely rare. And, he thought, probably an obligation. Something she thought was appropriate to do, because he was her son.

And had come to reject anything that came from her, anyway.

This was different. It tangled in his mind, a combination between 'seeing somebody important off to a battle' and 'affection' and 'good luck,' things that he could understand, and that thing which Eponine had named that he was not willing to accept - not for his sake, for Midii's. He stood still for a long moment, long enough for something warm, and even sweet, to stir inside him. Taraja caught it right away, and sent a gleeful thought at him, and he gave a small >Tt.< and started moving again, leaving the room and the suite, burying that sensation deeply so he could focus on what was at hand, but.

It had been there. And he would have to figure out what to do with it. Eventually.