Aroha Marathi

She

-And she smells like lemongrass and sleep,
She tastes like apple juice and peach,
Oh you would find her in a Polaroid picture,
And she means everything to me...-

"I love you, Aroha...I really, really do..."
The words were a breathy whisper, pink, rosy lips gently tickling Aroha's green pointed ears.
Her voice was like the sweetest honey mead, making the Orcish woman's head swim as if its very sound were intoxicating her.

Was this a dream?

The room was familiar, the bed they were laying on, covered in the furs she remembered from her childhood. But it was all so different and distorted at the same time.

Her arms wrapped further around the the other woman's waist, pulling her closer as she nuzzled her tusked face into the taller elf's exposed collarbone, her soft smile covered by her lover's light long hair.
A warmth filled her previously aching bones, the pain in her heart distant for once, a gnawing throb replaced with a bubbling of butterflies, the joy and happiness of which threatened to spill from her eyes. Oh her skin was soft, softer than anything the orc had ever known, and her scent was so calming it wiped away all of her anxieties, leaving her in such a deep relaxing stupor that the short haired woman almost fell asleep in her arms.

A set of long fingers traced the tattoos inked into her left arm, a tenderness and grace accompanying them that made Aroha shiver and press herself closer into the woman, like a moth seeking a light.

For once, the Orc didn't feel like she needed to say anything. The way her hands reached up to run themselves through the elven woman's light hair, gentle and soft, as if she were touching the most fragile of dwarven artifacts, like a single misplaced touch could kill her.
And yet, she'd risk it all for that touch.

Because the way those dazzling eyes twinkled and sparkled as they gazed down at her, elicited a euphoric feeling better than any bottle of Skooma that could ever be concocted.

"I love you too.. I have since the moment I first saw you.."

BAM
BAM
BAM

Aroha's smile faltered slightly, her vision beginning to blur with each intrusive banging knock.

No, no! Not yet...I want to stay here with you...

BAM
BAM
BAM

Looking up at the tall woman, Aroha inhaled deeply, trying to trap the comforting scent within her head for as long as she could. Her face was so peaceful, so calm.

The Orc trailed one of her scarred hands down from that long hair, to the woman's rounded chin, her green thumb gently caressing the elf's blushing cheeks. She felt every groove, every bump, every imperfection that made this woman all the more beautiful to her.
She wasn't perfect. But that's what made her so, so gorgeous to the Orc.

She wasn't fake.

She was so very, very real.

BAM
BAM
BA-

Aroha closed her eyes, and the room disappeared, only to be replaced with the dim lit rafters of an abandoned house in Solthsteim.
There was an ash storm outside, hitting one of the loose wooden beams of the roof against the stone framework of their chosen shelter.

A shelter she shared with her two closest friends.

Looking from the left to the right, she took note of Mithra and Farran sleeping on either side of the room, their eyes still tightly closed.
Of course this woke only her up.
She had always been the most sensitive to noise of the three.

Taking a shaky breath, the Orcish woman rolled onto her right side, using that hand to trace the ink of her own left arm.
As she closed her eyes once again, a single tear trailed its way down her cheek.

-And I'll be okay
Admiring from afar
'Cause even when she's next to me
We could not be more far apart
And she tastes like birthday
cake and story time and fall
But to her
I taste of nothing at all-