Scents

For as long as Sting could remember, the feeling of home had been strongly linked to a certain comforting smell. He wasn't sure if it was related to his Dragon Slayer nature since he was a bit embarrassed to ask any of the others. He was also a bit protective of his vision and didn't want to face the possibility it was only made up in his mind. The scent of home was something he liked to think Weisslogia had inherited to him.

At first, of course, it had been dominated by the strong smell of a pure Dragon, with the specific mark that belonged to his Father. That had been his first glimpse of what a home was, the first one he could actively remember. It had also disappeared with Weisslogia, leaving him alone with only his own smell, a weak imitation that wasn't good enough to fill the void that the dragon shape used to take.

That was the main reason he had left the woods where he grew up, the unshakable feeling that place wasn't his anymore. The feeling that it had been his home only because his Father was there, and therefore it was only an empty place without him.

Wandering through Fiore, he had never found anything that gave him a feeling similar enough to make him stay, not until he'd found (or been found by) Sabertooth. And even then, the guild wasn't exactly something he would define as a home. More like a place to stay in between mission, a place to rest. It didn't make him feel comfortable like sleeping under Weisslogia's wings did, and Sting had figured at first it was something related to growing up and leaving childhood behind. Later experiences would make him realize his mistake.

He was older now but, with Jiemma gone and Sabertooth on a new path, he had found again that comforting feeling he'd thought lost. It was at the guild hall, where his guildmates ate, fought and laughed. It was, weirdly, at his office where paperwork and notifications pilled. And, overall, it was on the smell that welcomed him every time he got home, to the house he shared with Rogue.

It was a blend of both their scents, as well as the fainter ones of their Exceeds. A smell that lingered on his skin even after he left, keeping him company even when he wasn't near his partner. It was something that made him fall asleep as happy and content as his Father's warmth once had.

And maybe, he thought, curling up closer to Rogue's chest, maybe it wasn't that different after all.