As always, she has his full attention, intense icy gaze locked on her as she explains her trials with winemaking. Muldoon has always struggled with balancing things. All-or-nothing is his natural inclination. Yennefer has always made it easy, however, to be utterly and entirely focused on her in one way or another.

Still, it takes him a moment when she mentions their kiss, when she gives him that look. Pausing to lean over and put his own glass on the nearby table is like taking the time to remove the restraint he keeps so tightly wound around himself. For the moment he's relieved of the glass, he turns to kiss her, the now free hand cupping her head, fingers winding into those impossibly dark locks.

Yennefer is beautiful, even a blind man could see that. It's in her voice, in her scent, in her manners. Muldoon has seen beautiful women before, but Yennefer draws him in like no other. Her wit, her patience, her fiery compassion... At every turn she never fails to give him a new way to appreciate her. All of which means that he's been dying for this moment, where permission is given to kiss her, properly. Though he may still be attempting to restrain himself, to not overwhelm, there is nothing casual about his lips on hers.