Liliana Vess Defiant Necromancer

She kissed him. She kissed him hard, and long, fingers slipping down to wrap in his collar because she needed to hold onto something and she wouldn't be so inconsiderate as to ruin his pompadour in the middle of a party. She kissed him like he was the only source of air in the room and didn't stop kissing him until actual air demanded otherwise.

"When, my darling," she said when she finally let go of his lips, still just a breath away from his face, fingers knotted in his costume, a trace of reproach in her voice, "have I ever complained about too much of a good thing?" She shook her head. "You have no idea--" she said, and only realized then that she was trembling. And that, yes, they were still surrounded by people, and even if she were willing to pull back some of the mystique she cloaked herself for Ignis right now, that offer did not extend to everybody else.

"I have spent two hundred years being told I am 'too much' and refusing to pare myself down to be acceptable to others," she said instead. "I will be damned to every hell in existence before I say the same to you."