Scented Candles
June traces the line of Azula’s lips. The princess lays on her back, her eyes closed. She looks rather delicate in sleep. One arm is draped over her torso, just under her chest and the other is positioned above her head. June watches her sleep, the steady rise and fall of her chest. She traces her fingers over the woman’s middle and up to her chest. She stops there, thinking better of touching the princess in her sleep.
Smoke trails lazily up towards the ceiling, the final traces of dying vanilla scented candles. They flicker and sputter out just as the sensual mood had.
June has to roll her eyes. They had a decent vibe going and then the princess decided to get all sleepy on her. She wonders if she should dress the princess or leave her remaining as she is, in only lingerie, cream in color with a layer of black lace.
Ultimately she decides that if Azula cared, she would have dressed herself before dozing off.
She has an urge to kiss the woman, to press her lips to the woman’s exposed neck. To her collarbone. To her nearly revealed breast. She lets the urge pass, frowning silently to herself. For a moment she thinks that the princess has put her in such a position on purpose. But the moment passes as swiftly as the urge; no, the princess is--at least in this regard--to innocent to have done so purposely.
Only hours before, she had been so clumsy in some manner of speaking. She supposes it made sense all things considered. Even still, she finds it hard to imagine that she could have been Azula’s first time, had the princess not shied away at the last minute.
June had tried a good many things with her to try to get her in the mood. She tried compliments and dirty talk. But the princess, so eloquent in her politics and war meetings, struggled to come up with something alluring to say back. She tried dancing with the her, giving rather generous views and touches. But the more intimate the dances became, the more the Azula seemed to grow in discomfort. The more her discomfort grew, the more awkward her movements, until June ended things. Still, the princess insisted that she wanted to take her to bed. So she tried the upfront approach, trailing a long nailed finger down from Azula’s cheek to the tip of her chin. She tilted the princess’ face up and gently suckled her lower lip. She was almost certain that the woman was going to reciprocate and she did. But it seemed just as forced as her ‘sweet’ talk.
She considered that perhaps the woman had a kink to work with. She had taken Azula’s hand and let her run it over her tattoo. That recieved no reaction. She tried enticing her with piercings, the woman wasn’t into that either.
The closest June had come to creating a spark was, when she decided to take a break. Azula tagged along with her as she scoped out something to eat. She had been in the mood for mochi but she had forgotten to go to the market. Her shelves were mostly barren. She did, however, have what was left of her Water Tribe imported ice cream. It had been a bitch and a half to keep it from melting. She figured that she might as well finish it off and offer some to the princess.
An idea had come to her mind when she was licking at the cone. She made eye-contact with Azula and trailed her tongue over the treat a little more slowly. As expected, the hint had been lost on the princess, who nibbled on her own ice cream almost completely oblivious. Or perhaps it had been more akin to her being distracted, she seemed to put an extra focus on her ice cream carefully, June recalled her mentioning something about it being too cool for her teeth or something of the sort.
June had frowned to herself, coming to the conclusion that, for as stunning as the princess is in body, she is probably the least sensual person she had ever met. June had given it one last effort, rubbing her pointer over Azula’s bicep and sweeping her tongue up the side of her ice cream scoop.
The princess had spared her only a half-confused, half-irritated glance. June had nearly groaned. Apparently, she had distracted Azula enough though, for the girl had managed to get a dab of vanilla ice cream on the corner of her mouth.
As far as June had been concerned it was an opportunity. Before Azula could do it herself, June swept her tongue over the trail of vanilla. It was particularly sweet when mixed with the taste of Azula’s lips. June smiled as Azula’s fingers coiled around her wrist. June brought her lips to Azula’s again, taking in the taste of vanilla. That time Azula worked with her some, she had deepened the kiss. When she drew back, June tugged off her own shirt. She let a generous helping of ice cream splatter onto her chest. That was where Azula fell short. Instead of licking away the vanilla as she was supposed to the princess muttered, “you’re making a mess.”
That time June had groaned aloud, and slapped her palm to her forehead. The woman was truly sexually clueless.
“What?” She had asked.
And June rolled her eyes, “you are supposed to lick off of me.”
Azula had looked confused and disgusted all at once. “I am not a towel.”
And so June had crossed off using food in the bedroom. She was beginning to think that the woman had no libido at all.
Perhaps she should have just skipped the foreplay altogether. But she had as strong feeling that the princess never truly wanted to be in the sheets at all. That perhaps she had been going out of her way to kill the mood.
June looks at the candles glowing softly in the otherwise dark. They give the air a gentle vanilla perfume. Azula is a firebender, she notes, perhaps the woman would fancy utilizing wax. Instead of dripping whip cream or ice cream, she could drip candle wax down her chest. She rolls her eyes to herself, she is almost certain that the princess could have found a way to ruin that too.
She stares, again, at the princess’ sleeping form. It really is hard to tell if she had been going out of her way to avoid sex or if she truly was just that awkward. She sighs to herself, she supposes that she will have to ask the princess for a clear answer in the morning. For the time, she draws the blankets up to Azula’s chin and kisses her forehead.
The woman stirs and for a moment, June doesn’t think that she will awaken. But she does. She peers at June with sleepy gold eyes. And she beckons June under the covers. Without a word, Azula wraps herself around June, hugging her somewhat close and weaving her leg between June’s. But before June can make anything of it, Azula yawns softly and falls back asleep with her head propped against her shoulder. Once again June finds herself rolling her eyes. She pats the woman’s head and waits for sleep to take her too.