Leaning out from Folkvír, he put a hand on her rough cheek and held it there for a moment.

He rubbed his hands across his bearded, rough cheeks once more.

When he was all clean Conor began to smile and held the poor little thing to his rough cheek.

He wiped at his rough cheeks with a grimy sleeve.

He knelt beside her and placed his rough weathered cheek next to hers.

She leaned close and placed her palm against his rough cheek.

She leaned over and gave him a quick peck on one rather rough cheek.

She stood on her toes to kiss his rough cheek.

She closed her eyes and smiled again and kept stroking his rough cheek.