Prompt: #32 – Power | Words: 442
Her scent is what captured his attention first—faint powder, a hint of raspberries, female musk, and underneath that, something that teased the edges of his memory but couldn't be grasped. He followed it to its source, which was a human girl of average build who had her back to him. A back that quivered with laughter as the guy next to her said something apparently humorous.
Kouga didn't need to be told that she was the aforementioned miko. Her spiritual power was massive, even as obviously suppressed as it was, wafting from her skin as a pink glow that gave her form an ethereal quality.
His skin started itching as he drew closer, followed by a primal instinct to retreat which he forcibly shoved down.
"You'll get used to it. Her power," Inuyasha elaborated at Kouga's slanted glance. "It puts your teeth on edge at first but the more time you spend near her the easier it becomes to ignore."
"Is it dangerous? That…"
"Pink stuff? Nah. It tingles a bit when you touch it, but unless you mean her actual harm it won't do nothin' to you. You know how air shimmers above a fire? It's like that. Hot, but it ain't harmful."
"So it's a warning of what lies beneath it."
The hanyou's answering grin was sharp, reminding Kouga of what Inuyasha had said about him and the miko being best friends. "Exactly."
"Was she always that powerful?" he asked, eyes involuntarily drawn to the incandescent figure. There was something familiar about her, and it irritated him that he couldn't pinpoint what it was.
"Yes and no. She was always strong for a miko, but she didn't fully come into power until a few months ago. Yeah, kind of a late bloomer. Surprised the hell out of everyone. Hachi, one of our friends, wouldn't go near her for days afterward."
"I can hear you, y'know," a feminine voice called out, and at once Kouga's heart began to race because he knew that voice, had replayed it over and over from memory during whatever quiet moments he could snatch in recent months.
Inuyasha hollered something back, but Kouga could barely hear him over the deafening rush of blood in his ears, the thundering in his chest, the sudden onslaught of a single word reverberating in his head.
Mine, he thought as the girl finally turned around, baring her profile to him. Sea-green eyes hungrily devoured the vision of pale skin, dark hair, and delicate facial features. Took in her wide, almond-shaped eyes, the color of slate, that peaked out from under a wind-swept fringe.
Mine, he thought, and stepped forward.
A/N: To be cont'd. Thanks for reading!