Fic: Drawing breath
Title: Drawing breath
Author: dark_malignity
Genres: Romance, stream of consciousness, ficlet.
Rating: G
Warnings: none
Summary: Mai reflects upon the meaning of intimacy.
====
I kinda like him.
I don't know why.
Why must there even be a "why"? Like is just like.
There's something about the way he smells. I don't know. It's just there. It's not stinky or anything. It's just him. There's just... something.
It's not the smell of sweat, it's the smell of skin. It comes up through his clothes. I can smell it when I lean against him. And it's intoxicating.
He smells different depending on what he's been doing. Sometimes he's sweaty and smells bad. Times like that, I make him stay away until he's had a bath. I also remember how his smell sometimes has a sharpness to it when he wakes up, but it doesn't bug me anymore. Oh, and of course there's the heady scent of excitement, but that's not the kind of smell that I'm thinking about either.
When he's just being himself, there's a special kind of smell that comes from underneath his skin. It's sweet, and musky and deep all at once, like the smell of freshly-dug earth. But it isn't the smell of earth at all. It's something else. It's from inside him.
And when I lean against him and breathe him in, and he absentmindedly puts his arms around me like it's the most natural thing in the world, I am immersed by Zuko. He is in my lungs. He is in my blood. Without lifting a finger, my man enters me more throughly than I ever thought possible.
Author: dark_malignity
Genres: Romance, stream of consciousness, ficlet.
Rating: G
Warnings: none
Summary: Mai reflects upon the meaning of intimacy.
====
I kinda like him.
I don't know why.
Why must there even be a "why"? Like is just like.
There's something about the way he smells. I don't know. It's just there. It's not stinky or anything. It's just him. There's just... something.
It's not the smell of sweat, it's the smell of skin. It comes up through his clothes. I can smell it when I lean against him. And it's intoxicating.
He smells different depending on what he's been doing. Sometimes he's sweaty and smells bad. Times like that, I make him stay away until he's had a bath. I also remember how his smell sometimes has a sharpness to it when he wakes up, but it doesn't bug me anymore. Oh, and of course there's the heady scent of excitement, but that's not the kind of smell that I'm thinking about either.
When he's just being himself, there's a special kind of smell that comes from underneath his skin. It's sweet, and musky and deep all at once, like the smell of freshly-dug earth. But it isn't the smell of earth at all. It's something else. It's from inside him.
And when I lean against him and breathe him in, and he absentmindedly puts his arms around me like it's the most natural thing in the world, I am immersed by Zuko. He is in my lungs. He is in my blood. Without lifting a finger, my man enters me more throughly than I ever thought possible.