Me: "Request anything, I'll do it!"
@Greenishgold: "Can we request smut?"
A/N -- So, I got several requests for one shots! I've got a few written on my computer now (those still need to be edited, though)! So, I've decided to go ahead post the only one I can't bring myself to proofread. XD
Here you go guys: the most embarrassing thing I've ever written in my life. If I know you in real life, please don't read this or I'll literally die. K thnx.
This is my very first stab at this sort of thing. Fair warning.
*VERY EXPLICIT CONTENT WARNING* -- It's rated Mature for a reason, ya'll.
The fireplace was warm inside Rhalla's new home. Its flames flickered, sending dancing patterns through the living room. The guardian sat back on her couch, eyes shut... but not asleep. Azabela warmed her side further, curled up against her shoulder. It had been quiet for a while... both women had been content to just be.
Rhalla opened one eye and looked over to her betrothed. Azabela was staring forward at the hearth, unblinking for the most part. Her eyes glistened like they always did when her mind was far away.
"What are you thinking about?" Rhalla's voice was a near whisper.
"Do you think there's anyone out there that's like us?" Azabela's eyes still swam with wonder. "Anyone at all?"
"What do you mean like us?"
"You know what I mean." The huntress's gaze finally found her lover's face. "Like us. Is there even a word that describes it --a woman that loves another woman?"
Rhalla chuckled. "Human." She tucked a strand of the huntress's hair behind her ear. Despite her mighty presence, the guardian's touch was gentle. "Should there be another word? We're not a different species, love."
"Even still," Azabela admitted. "What do you think? Are there more out there? Are they afraid --confused?"
"I wish I could answer that for you. I do. But I'm not afraid, nor am I confused."
The huntress laughed softly. "Of course you're not afraid. You're not afraid of anything. How could you be?" That was a reference to Rhalla's stature –as well as her profession. How could someone over six feet tall and made of pure muscle be scared of anything? How could a weapons master fear something intangible –fear judgment? The guardian was the very definition of a hardass.