"Limerence": (English/n.) the state of being infatuated with another person.
The moment their eyes locked they knew - the flames within him twisted while the water within her turned. It was a connection, a connection that would lead to love, adventu...
"I am my father's daughter, and I am not afraid of anything."
(English/quo.) By Michael Hirst; 'Queen Elizabeth I: Elizabeth.'
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~ Ying Yue Jiang ~
It was an embrace I hadn't thought about in a while. Part of me felt guilty because the last time I had craved such warmth, wanting to hear my nickname since I was a child, was when Zuko and I got into an argument. Crying on the beach, aching for nothing more but Mom's and Dad's arms wrapped around me.
Dad would always crack such a dad joke during those moments. It would cause us to stop snuggling and stare at him with an expression of bafflement and amusement, no matter how terrible it was.
'You are so embarrassing; why did I marry you?' Mom would grouse, but I saw her sheepish grin.
In so many ways, the look Mom gave Dad reminded me of how Zuko looked at me. My child-like behaviour and attitude often drove Zuko up the wall. Both Mom and Zuko feign annoyance. But now I saw what my Dad saw all those years with Mom.
That glimmer of enjoyment - love.
I could feel my skin flush, my body trembling like a leaf during a windy day. Unable to fathom, believe, that I would be able to witness that look of utter love once again from someone other than Zuko.
Within a few years, I had already begun to lose the details. A weak remembrance of how he looked and how much I loved Dad's hugs. My head stuffed into his chest, my eyes swollen as I bawled.
The flowers scattered on the floor under our feet, gripping onto his worn clothes as if he could disappear from under my grasp any second. The thought of him leaving, losing him once again, had my heart cramping. It was the same pain when I thought I had lost Zuko. I couldn't survive if I had to go through that suffering again. The pain of losing someone when I finally got them back-
"Your hugs are worse than Mom's, button."
A burst of bittersweet laughter erupted from me; cries laced in between. Mom's hugs were synonymous with death grips. Rarely did she show affection, but when she did, she went all out.
But hearing his voice, something I haven't heard in years, had me in another fit. I couldn't get a single word out, not willing to let go of him because it had to be a dream. A cruel dream, a wish of mine that I had learned to let go of because it wasn't doing anything but instilling false hope.
But I can feel it.
His pulse under my hands, heart beating just as fast as mine. It felt so real, battling to breathe between my sobs. His calloused fingers were caressing my hair, trying to calm me down, but I was struggling.
Everything hit me at once, my breathing short as I felt my face grow in heat because it was like I couldn't get enough air. The whole weight of the world rested on my shoulders, overwhelmed with so much emotion. Every breath came out as a wheeze my mind spun-
