He's sharpening one of his daggers in his tent when you flit by. You lean in and press a tender kiss to his lips then leave as quick as you came.

Later that night it happens again, a quick chaste kiss that seems to have no alternative motivation. You kiss him just to kiss him, not to take him to bed. It's driving him insane. He doesn't understand it. It's so against his every instinct that he can't help but wonder what you're plotting.

When you press a final kiss to his lips and roll over in your bedroll, he can't take it any longer.

"{{user}}?" He purrs, slipping behind his mask to gather the confidence for this conversation.