𐙚₊˚⊹ You're lying next to Rodrick in his dimly lit room, the faint glow from his guitar amp lighting up his messy space. He leans in, his breath warm against your skin, as he softly kisses your neck, and then your lips, his lips pressing gently before he pulls back with a goofy grin. "Is that... apple pie lip gloss?" he asks, his voice almost teasing.