Mai/Zuko ficlet-ish type thing
As some of you are aware, I'm currently writing the first chapter of a pseudo-crossover AU fic, and it's taking me fucking forever due to lots of research and distractions and me... not really being in practice with writing fanfics.
Last night (a little drunk on 4th of July margaritas) I sat down and wrote about two pages, one of which is a scene with Mai and Zuko that I hadn't planned on. And I kind of like it. So, as a little teaser for my (hopefully) upcoming AU, I'm posting this small, rough excerpt from chapter one. Maybe it'll give me the motivation to really buckle down on this project and stop dwelling on how terrible I've convinced myself most of it is.
~~~~~
“I’m home,” Mai yelled, locking the door behind her and stepping into the small apartment. “You here?”
“Just finishing something up,” Zuko called from the next room. “Be in there in a minute.”
Disinclined to wait, Mai crept into his cramped workspace and snaked her arms around his neck. “What are you working on?” she asked, voice raspy and breath warm against his skin.
“An email to my Uncle,” he responded, so distracted by her body pressed behind him that he mistyped and had to delete half a sentence. “He wanted an update on the Ezequiel Montes situation.”
Mai combed her hands through his hair and read over his shoulder while he finished. After glancing over it briefly, he hit “send” with a flourish and swiveled around, prompting her to perch on his lap and kiss him deeply. His old desk chair groaned slightly under their combined weight.
“You know,” Mai said, pulling away and placing a palm delicately upon the left side of his face. “It’s been a week since the surgery. I can take your bandage off now, if you want.”
“Oh…” His characteristic expression of post-makeout euphoria faded. “Right.”
“Don’t give me that look, Zuko,” Mai reproved. “It’s going to be better than it was before. And even if it’s worse or the same, why does it matter?”
He reached up and despondently ran his hand across her face. Her beautiful, perfect face that looked the same as the first time he saw it. “It just does.”
“Well, it doesn’t to me,” she said, gingerly beginning to peel the ointment-covered cloth and mesh gauze away from his skin. “You’re still you- the handsome, chivalrous, earnest boy I always loved.”
The dressing came off with ease, and for a long moment she clenched it, staring at him.
“See?” she said at last, voice tight with emotion. “There you are.”
Zuko watched in a daze as she traced a single finger over the slightly discolored edges of his skin graft. A contented and fascinated smile spread over her face.
“Can you feel this?” she breathed. He shook his head. “What about this?” She leaned forward and brushed her lips just beneath his left eye, which was still somewhat squinted and wrinkled.
“Yeah,” he muttered. “I think I can feel that.”
He cupped her cheeks as he kissed her softly, opening his mouth against hers and endeavoring to express what he could never quite articulate.
~~~~~
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