Wow, I'm on a roll: two ficlets in one night. Go me! This is a oneshot about my all-time favorite crackship.
Disclaimer: Avatar is Viacom's, not mine. NOT MINE, I SAY!
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Whispers
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Whenever she speaks to me, it's never above a whisper.
Quiet, hisslike whispers, words barely escaping her crimson lips as she sways through the pitch black, so close I can feel her heated breath. She's like a nightmare, never physically hurting me but still leaving scars.
"You know, I think I finally understand it. Why you're so scared of me. Why you hate me."
And I try so hard to resist, to not listen and shut her out. I try to tell myself I'm better than her and I'm just playing right into her hands by letting her words get to me.
"It's because just beneath that innocent exterior, buried deep in that ugly little part of yourself you try to hide under a facade of naivette and childishness..."
I try to pretend I can't hear her, that I'm invulerable to her tortures.
"...is someone just like me. Caniving. Twisted. Bloodthirsty."
But each time, when she assails me with her quiet whispers, tempting me into her game, I find myself an unwilling player, just watching her down each piece I put into play. I'm only too aware of the gentle touch of her hand, the nails barely scraping skin as she draws her touch across my exposed chest, and her breath landing hotly across my face as her lips barely brush against my cheek.
"It frightens you, doesn't it? To know it doesn't fool me. To know I can see him, staring back at me, almost begging to let him out to play."
She mocks me, toys with my mind, and without fail, I succumb to her. Each time, I growl harshly back, "I'm nothing like you, Azula!"
And each time, all she does is smile ever so slightly in her demented, twisted fashion, and, with mein of lady to her loyal slave, places the ghost of a kiss on my temple.
"You just keep telling yourself that, dear."