Avatar; The Royal Firebender.

Peace Disturbed

The smell of mint and jasmine wafts up from the steaming waters as Jin and Zuko slip inside the private chamber of the bath house. The artificial hot springs glow with an inviting warmth, the steam clings to their skin like a tender kiss. Behind them, Jin closes and locks the door with a lifted stone preventing anyone from barging in on them. The air itself seems to pull the stress and the exhaustion from his muscles, the grueling day of training and cooking at the tea house wears on his bones. Despite the tempting invitation of the steam, gentle scents of mint and jasmine, and the waters he still waits patiently for her. She glides along the stone floor, dancing out of her silk robes agonizingly slowly. He watches as the green and gold silk melts off her shoulders, cascading down her form like a waterfall. The muscle of her back is dense, defined but appears to be as soft as the silk she was just wearing. The flicker of candlelight paints her in gold, but it's the way she looks at him, like she knows every part of him and wants more, that makes his heart falter. Like a temptress, she gathers the undone robe around her waist, teasing modesty she doesn't mean to keep. "Do you need an invitation? Or are you just going to stand there gawking?" She asks as she drops the robe to the floor, though he's seen her completely bare numerous times... it still takes his breath away.

Jin hums low, the sound somewhere between a sigh and a moan as the warmth embraces her. Zuko is quick to follow her lead, ridding himself of his garments then sinking into the hotspring right beside her. He takes in a deep breath as the heat melts the tension in his muscles, and tempts him to drop all the way beneath the surface. Jin plops herself in his lap and leans against his chest, she feels his arms wrap around her stomach as they lean back against the ledge of the spring. The steam thickens as they settle in, curling like fog between their bodies, warm, concealing, intimate. Zuko's hands move slowly, deliberately, not in hunger, but in reverence. His fingertips trace the curve of her abdomen, gliding along each defined ridge of muscle as if memorizing her form by touch alone. There's no rush in him. No urgency. Just presence. She sighs again, softer this time, when his thumbs press gently into the grooves beside her ribs; a careful massage against tension she didn't realize she was holding. He draws circles along her waist, then glides upward, his knuckles brushing against the underside of her chest.

Jin tilts her head, pressing a kiss against the side of his jaw, light at first, then deeper, lingering. Her lips move slowly down to the corner of his mouth before pulling back just enough to whisper against his cheek. "You're always so careful with me," she murmurs. Zuko exhales, his breath warm against her ear. "You're the only thing in this city I don't want to break." His hands drift upward, cupping her gently, not possessive, not claiming. Just there, as if her heartbeat were something he wanted to feel in his palms. And she does feel something stir: not fire, not desire, but a warmth deeper than heat. It spreads across her chest in slow, radiant waves. She closes her eyes, not from modesty, but from trust. "That feels... different."

"Good different?" he asks, barely above a whisper.

She nods against his neck. "Yes... good different." A quiet gasp escapes her, sharp but breathless, as his touch awakens something molten beneath her skin. She squirms beneath his touch, her breath hitches in her throat as her entire body seems to radiate in pleasure.

His hands wander slowly, pressing into her skin with the kind of patience that speaks more of devotion than desire. His fingers press, grip and slither, as if he's clutching priceless jewels that may shatter at his touch. His heart pounds in his chest, not from desire, but from the weight of what he feels when he touches her. Like he's holding something fragile and sacred, something he doesn't quite deserve but would burn the world to protect. Jin shifts in his lap, just enough to face him. Her gaze finds his; those sharp, amber-gold eyes, now blown wide with awe. Intoxicated. Not by touch, but by her. She brushes wet strands of hair from his face. The silence between them hums, charged but tender. "How do you do that?" She asks, pausing just long enough for him to raise an eyebrow. "How do you make the world disappear... all my worries, even the war... seem like they don't exist. If only for a moment." Zuko doesn't answer right away. Instead, he lifts his hands from her chest, leaving a playful pinch on her buds as a parting gift. His hands find her arms and glide down them towards her hands, feeling the curves and subtle ridges on her biceps and forearms. Their fingers intertwine when their hands finally meet beneath the steaming water.