Jin runs the comb through her hair. She snags it more than once. Azula flinches each time. And each time Jin kisses her cheek and gives her an overly cheery, 'whoops, sorry.' Azula folds her arms across her chest and pouts, caught somewhere between annoyed and smitten.
"Your hair is so silky." Jin muses aloud. "Mine is so dry, I wish that I had your hair."
Azula wouldn't wish that upon anyone. She isn't sure that she likes her hair anymore. She feels Jin tangling her fingers in her locks. "What are you doing?"
"Has anyone ever braided your hair before?"
Azula shakes her head. "It isn't a Fire Nation tradition, we prefer…"
"Top knots and honor, yeah, I know. But you're in the Earth Kingdom now and I think that it's time to try something new. It'll look cute."
She doesn't think that cute is what she aspires to be; beautiful, imposing, confident-that is how she'd like to look. Cute is not her thing. Cute is TyLee's thing. And yet she lets the woman play with her hair anyhow.
"Have you ever thought about shaving your hair?"
Azula jerks, "absolutely not!" She clutches her hair almost protectively.
Jin pauses her braiding to give a full belly laugh. "I was just joking. But I think that you could work a shaved head."
"I'll take the braids." She grumbles. At least those could be unravel and corrected if they look as ridiculous as she anticipates. Jin hums to herself as she continues toying with Azula's locks. Azula fixes her eyes upon the city streets. The view is rather nice from Jin's balcony, the midday sun bathes green-tiled roofs in a soft, glinting gold. It sparkles itself over puddles left over from last nights rain. Azula smells the lingering petrichor in the air around her.
Jin steps back, "all done, have a look!" She grins and leads Azula to the mirror.
Azula's stomach flutters, she hasn't looked in a mirror since…
She swallows.
She isn't sure that she will be pleased with what she will see and so she doesn't want to see it at all. She doesn't want to know what her face looks like since losing daily access to the royal spa.
She looks up anyhow. She watches Jin's reflection wrap her arms around the torso of her own reflection. "What do you think?"
She studies her face for the first time in a while. She swallows down a lump that has formed in her throat. She feels the pressure of unshed tears building behind her eyes. It is as she had dreaded, her face is blemished and her light dusting of freckles are somehow more obvious than before.
But her hair. It looks nice. Her bangs frame it nicely again and she supposes that the twin braids are flattering on her.
"It's nice." It is the best that she has felt about her hair in a long while. She wishes that she could say the same about her faces.
"Oh wait! One more thing!" She turns around and holds up a flower. A little white buttercup and tucks it behind her ear. "Perfect."
She isn't perfect. But the buttercup is a nice touch. "I like it."
"Great!" Jin smiles. She puts herself between Azula and the mirror and stoops down for a kiss. Her smile falters, "you don't look happy."
"My hair isn't the problem."
Jin sighs, "you always seem to have a problem with yourself."
"Because there always is a problem. I used to be…"
"Too perfect." Jin cuts her off. "I like this much more. It's…" she pauses. "Authentic. But if it doesn't make you happy then we can go back to the palace and they can fix up the way you like."
But Azula isn't sure that she wants that either. She does think that being perfect had made her happy. If anything it just makes her feel as though she has to meet some unattainable standards. They are all mostly self imposed. And for what? She no longer has her father to impress, she had well and disappointed him. She doesn't have her nation to impress because they are moving on from their rigidity.
Maybe she should too.
Though the habits are so deeply ingrained…
Jin's fingers rub against her cheek. They rub against it and with so much affection and she isn't sure why. She isn't sure how Jin can ignore the blemishes. She studies Jin's face. The girl has her own share of imperfections. Azula is rather fond of those. She wishes that she could be as fond of her own.
"Do you like them?"
"Hmm?"
"Your freckles." Azula specifies, "do you like them?"
"You ask some strange questions."
"Answer them." She should add a please.
"I don't mind them." Jin says. "Why?"
Azula shrugs. "I like them."
The woman smiles. One of those smiles that has her eyes squeezing shut. "Yours are pretty too." She ruffles Azula's hair, knocking the buttercup out of place. Azula catches it and weaves it into Jin's hair.
"Are we playing pass the flower?"
"Pass the flower?"
"When it falls out of my hair, I give it back to you and then when it falls out of your hair, you give it back to me?"
"Sure, Jin. We can play pass the flower." It is those little things that make her heart flutter.
And the profound things that draw it to Jin completely. Jin smiles again, "I think that you're perfect Azula. All of those freckles and those little scars. They're all placed perfectly where they should be."
She thinks that one of those tears has managed to leak out. But she isn't distraught. She isn't unhappy. She is so overwhelmingly relieved.
