It never failed-- if she touched the nape of his neck, he'd open his mouth while kissing her. He slid his tongue across her bottom lip, seeking for that familiar entry to her mouth.

They wouldn't be able to continue this here, not at the rate things were going to develop. Raylan touched her arm, wanting to keep as much of their mouths locked as possible while he tried to stand.

Winona made him drunk, blind. Whenever they touched he couldn't focus on anything else, be anywhere else. He knows they probably shouldn't, but he's never been great at avoiding things he shouldn't get into. The desire to experience drowns out all the other voices that say no, that try to warn him that fairy tales only exist in the movies. Right now, he doesn't care about happy endings or endings at all. It's just him, her, and them.