Alex remembers kissing, remembers thinking it was all tongue and wet and kind of gross, like some weird alien tentacle crawling into her mouth. She's prepared for gross, even jumps at the mixed flavor of old coffee and the tang of Maggie's just finished beer. Instead of the thick, uncomfortable intrusion she's fearing, Maggie's lips ghost against hers, opening with a sweet grace that shivers through Alex. Her own tongue darts between them, curious, meeting the same welcoming brush.
Warm in her arms, Alex feels as though she's stepping foot on a new planet and discovering that she's finally home.