@bloodofthefates said: Mai's slender fingers run through the last section of hair as she unpins it from the top of her head, taking extra care with the tips of her pointed nails to run along her scalp without scratching too hard. Flipping all of her hair to one side, she pulls the length of it down over her the front of her shoulder to reach for the brush in her lap to begin running it through the smallest tangles at the ends of her hair before slowly and methodically working her way upwards. She hadn't realized such a mundane routine could've caught anyone's interest, but she was keenly aware of her audience without even having to turn around to see who it was. "Am I really that interesting?"
Zuko watched the brush glide through the dark curtain of her hair while lamplight painted soft gold across her skin. It was such a simple thing. Such an ordinary thing. Yet he found himself staring as though she'd cast some sort of spell over him. Maybe she had. His paperwork sat forgotten on the desk. The reports he'd been reading moments ago no longer existed in his mind. There was only Mai, seated before her mirror, and the slow, graceful movement of her hands.
When she asked if she was really that interesting, a quiet laugh escaped him. “No,” he said as he rose from his chair and crossed the room, stopping behind her. His hands settled over hers, warm and careful as he gently plucked the brush from her fingers. “You're worse.”
The corner of his mouth lifted as he met her gaze through the mirror. “I was supposed to finish three reports tonight,” he murmured. “Instead I've spent the last ten minutes watching you brush your hair.” He drew the brush slowly through her hair, far more carefully than anyone would've expected from him. The dark strands slipped through the bristles like silk, and he found himself absurdly pleased when he managed not to snag a single tangle.
His free hand drifted to her shoulder, fingertips grazing lightly across the fabric there as the brush continued its steady path through her hair while his gaze lingered on her reflection. She was beautiful. Not in the distant, untouchable way nobles and spoke about beauty like some painting meant to be admired from afar. She was beautiful because she was Mai.
Leaning down, Zuko pressed a lingering kiss beneath her ear. His lips brushed the curve of her neck before he rested his forehead briefly against her shoulder. “You’re beautiful,” he said softly, drawing the brush through her hair once more; another kiss followed, this one near the base of her throat.
