#scorpionxyou

[makrokosmuss-blog]

First Spark

Summary: The infamous Scorpion, Crown Prince of the Lin Kuei, helplessly falling deeply in love during battle.

Warning: It's Mortal Kombat. There is Comat. A/N: This is a whole story of both brothers having a bad case of crush. If anyones interested I'll post the other bits as well. Part II Whole Story (Ao3)

The air was cold. A storm was brewing above. And the man, you had tracked for weeks on end, the man you were sent to kill, was so very close now.

Skillfully and silently you moved along the terrain. Unseen and unheard, trained on your victim, so close to striking. Muscles tense, eyes unblinking, drawing your weapon as-

You saw the fight erupt before you.

A fight that, with how it proceeded, would change your path and bring with it so much more than you had ever bargained for.

Your prey, your contract, the man you had carefully stalked, now clumsily and hastily attacked by…a boy. A boy wearing a grey garment, young, too young to fight, to be in a situation such as this. Yet he was fast. And skilled and quick. Quick as yourself now nearing them, whispering: “No…No, no, no.” to yourself as you debated fiercely with yourself if to intervene and end their fight. If to quickly kill the man you were supposed to, or to stop the boy, or to kill them both, or-

Your mind was racing. Your heart as well. You watched on, still hidden, as the boy began to struggle. He was much smaller, much frailer in frame and with the progression of their fight it was clear who would stand victorious in this encounter.

He cried out, shouting. “I Found him! Over here!”, before getting hit by yet another strike of his opponent.

Your head shot to the side. It meant that the boy was not alone. Yet you did not see any aid coming, now heard any answer.

Another strike. The man’s fist had collided with the poor boys head and you could both see and hear the miserable state he was in when he hit the ground after that blow.

And slowly but surely the question in your head moved from fear of the intruding boy, to fear for his life. He was getting mercilessly beaten. Trying desperately to move away, to hold his position yet suffered great hits. He stumbled back, catching his breath for but a second, not seeing as the silver of the man’s blade glistened in the light. You heard someone Shout from afar. The shocked voice of a father, maybe a brother. Someone who saw that with the sheathing of this weapon the boy's life would be forfeit, yet could not reach him in time. Then, despite your better judgment, with your jaw pressed shut and your muscles tense, you rushed in.

The element of surprise was strongly on your side that day. Your blade met his in the last possible second. You had positioned yourself so quickly between the two opponents, that neither had even noticed you for the split second in which you had intervened. Facing your prey, your stare turned cold. You could not see the boy that you had protected so fiercely, stare at you with wide, surprised eyes. Saw only the man you were supposed to kill before you, shocked by your appearance.

So taken aback, that before he had a chance to react any further, you moved beneath his arm, drawing back your weapon and burying it deep into his guts, up into his heart. Out of the corner of your eye then, having angled you body towards him in your movements, you could see the boy behind you sink to his knees. Failing to stay upright. Quickly you pushed your victim off. Turning in a fluent motion and grasping for the young boy, catching him in his fall. His head fell back, revealing his unconscious features to you, beaten and bloodied face laying still. He was warm and soft in your arms and you worried if he was alright. This was not how this should have went. Not how it was planned.

“Tomas!”

The same voice again, this time the man was in view. And then, more than that, shock ran through you, ice cold and damaging. It was impossible not to recognize the man that was sprinting towards you. Even from stories and legends alone, it made your blood freeze and the fear in you arise. With that fear you looked down upon the boy in your arms, noticing he was Lin Kuei as well. One could not miss it in their beautiful ornate Robes and masks. And the man before you none other than…

“You, step back.” His voice was deep. Menacing. And yet it called to you so attractively. As if you had heard it a thousand times before. His infamous speer was held out, directed straight at you as he came to a halt, not bothered or out of breath by the impressive sprint.

He stood oh so tall. Broad as well. Shoulders strong and upright. A fire in his eyes that seemed unyielding. You would not dare to provoke him. Not the second son of the Lin Kuei.

As slowly as you could, you lowered the boy down. Running your hand over his forehead, through his gray hair, then at his throat, checking his pulse. He was alright. Even slower then, you rose from your crouched position. Careful with each step. You thought about raising your hands, to show submission. Yet decided against it. The best way to get out was to neither give up nor confront.

The tense silence hung in the air as you stepped back from the boy, your blade still in hand, but your attention now divided between him and the menacing man who had just arrived. Noone else, but Scorpion. The younger brother, of the sons of the grandmaster of the Lin Kuei. The man's piercing, intense gaze locked onto you, and you felt an electrifying connection between your eyes. Although his face was covered, just as yours, by mask, in that instant, amidst the chaos, you recognized a strange attraction and admiration that welled up within you.

His speer remained pointed at you, unwavering, a clear indication of his readiness for confrontation. His reputation as a formidable warrior was well-deserved, and the stories you'd heard about him had not done justice to the aura of power that emanated from him. Like heat, it seemed to wash over you, filling you with strange exhilaration.

The boy you had saved, lay at your feet, his shallow breaths and steady pulse reassuring you of his safety. He was battered and bloodied, sure, but his life was not in immediate danger.

The man before you squinted his eyes at you, then they shifted briefly to the fallen boy. "You saved him," he said, his voice a complex blend of stern authority and intrigue. "But that won't absolve you of your intrusion."

Intrusion. Yes. You were in Lin Kuei territory. You had hunted your contract here. Knowing he would escape had you not. There had been no other choice in your mind.

You knew you had to be cautious, and you kept your blade at the ready, prepared for a fight you had not initially bargained for. "I did not mean to stumble upon anyone" you replied, your voice steady, though your heart raced. "I have my reasons for being in your territory."

Scorpion raised an eyebrow, and a flicker of curiosity danced across his eyes. "Reasons," he echoed, as if trying to decipher your intentions.

As you stood there, the tension in the air grew more palpable with each passing moment. Both of you were Assassins, bound by duty and honor, but now standing at an unexpected and unwanted crossroads. You knew there was little chance you had against him, if it came to a fight. Somehow you would have to evade this, his moves, his speer, long enough to get away.

The boy, Tomas,still did not regain consciousness. You glanced down at him and then back at the man. "He is alive and well. I do not ask for thankfullness, only for letting me go, as if unseen" you proposed, a hint of desperation in your voice. "Let's not make this any bloodier than it needs to be."

The man's gaze remained fixed on you, his expression unyielding, but a hint of something deeper tugged at the corners of his lips. “I don’t think so.”

The tension between you was a strange one. There was an undeniable connection that had sparked in the midst of this chaos that you found yourself in. Was it his eyes? His voice? You had heard it before. You knew that. Were so sure of it. And he. The way he looked at you. Moved his eyes up and down your form, puzzled expression, intrigue in his eyes. It was strange but he seemed to feel just as you did. He continued watching you with curious eyes, the short blade dancing in his hands. The world around you seemed to hold its breath, awaiting the next move in this unexpected dance of nearing Combat.

“You said it yourself, Woman. You are in Lin Kuei territory. I’ll have to take you in.”

Your eyes were trained on him. Heart began racing once more. The air tense, just as your piercing gaze. “I won’t go voluntarily.” His answer was calmer, nearly glad about this decision of yours. “I thought so.”

With the tension between you reaching its peak, the clash of steel became inevitable. Still wielding his infamous speer, he made the first move, lunging forward with deadly precision. You moved, feeling the hot air of the metal just inches next to your face, then, slicing through soft skin, leaving a bloody but rather shallow gash on your cheek. He pulled it back just as quickly and you moved again, evading it’s sting, before he drew his blade and it met yours in a beautiful sound of clinging metal. Another attack followed, then another. His strikes were swift and merciless, yet you moved with a grace and agility that seemed almost choreographed.

You parried his attacks with fluid movements, your blade meeting his with a melodious ring that echoed through the air. The dance of combat began, and it was unlike any you had experienced before. Each swing, each thrust, and every step felt like a part of a beautifully orchestrated performance.

He was relentless, his speer and blade a blur as it sliced through the air. You evaded his strikes with a dancer's finesse, your body swaying like a reed in the wind. Your movements were swift, his direct and forceful, a mesmerizing display of skill and precision. The air around him was hot. His skin, whenever you brushed against it, steeming, scorching.

Despite the intensity of the battle, there was a strange, unspoken understanding between you and him. A mutual respect for each other's abilities emerged as the fight continued. Admiration gleamed in his eyes as he saw your agility and prowess.

He stepped back as you had dodged another swing, landing in a crouched position. A moment of peace. A moment to breathe. A moment to watch each other closely. Seconds had past. A minute maybe. And yet you felt like you had spent hours brushed against him, lost in dance.

You could see his chest rising and falling with his rapid breathing. See his muscles tense. His shape pristine. You could see his eyes doing the same. Watching you oh so tenderly as you slowly rose to your feet. He was clearly impressed. Impressed or rather, entertained, maybe.

"Who are you?" he asked, acknowledging your theory of admiration, his voice low and tinged with a hint of appreciation.

You began to move. Slowly, pacing like a wild cat. He joined your movements, just like in battle. Synchronised in a beautiful dance. The two of you circled each other, a magnetic connection pulling you closer with each step. The man's breath was measured. The adrenaline coursed through your veins, and you couldn't deny the exhilaration of the fight.

As the clouds above cast eerie shadows on the battleground, the man lunged once more, and you twirled away gracefully, your blade grazing his arm as you did so. He winced, but once more there was a glint of admiration in his eyes. The pain seemed to fuel his determination. He grasped it then, his wound. Looking at the blood that ran beneath his fingers and then up to you again. Knowing, you would not attack him. Knowing as surely as you did, that there had formed a respect between the two of you so quickly, that neither had actively witnessed it happening. It was simply understood.

You parried his next strike, locking your gaze with his, and for a brief, electrifying moment, the world around you disappeared. It was just the two of you, locked in a dance of blades, a fight where admiration mingled with the thrill of combat.

And it continued, a harmonious clash of steel, a duel that neither of you seemed willing to end. As the seconds turned into minutes, it became clear that this battle was no longer about territory or a contract. It was a display of skill and a testament to the undeniable connection you seemed to share. More and more you noticed yourself not wanting to harm him. And neither seemed he to want to. Seemingly pulling back his punches, missing you on purpose, wanting to see your skill, feel your heat within his rather than being out for blood. He had you once, twice at a damaging position, yet did not strike, but glanced at you wondrously. You as well had your blade against his throat, only to redraw, deciding to back off before he lunged again.

The sun found its way through the thick clouds above, a silent witness to the dance of blades and the unspoken bond that had formed between you. This battle was far from over, and the admiration you held for each other would continued to grow.

It took you by surprise then, as he lunged forward. In a sudden burst of speed and strength, the man managed to close the distance between you, his speer aiming to immobilize you. With a swift, unexpected maneuver, he had gotten hold of you with his infamous weapon. Rope that felt as hot as him suddenly tangled around you, squeezing you tightly, taking your breath away. Before you knew it he pulled you close and his powerful grip held you firmly.

You found yourself pressed against him. Pulled with your back into his chest, strong arms around you, holding you in place. You could feel his heat up close now. Feel the rising and falling of his chest. For a moment, you were defenseless, your chest heaving, and your heart pounding. You turned your head, struggling, seeing him watching you from over your shoulder. The man's intense gaze bore into you, and his eyes seemed to contain a mix of regret and resolve. It was the strangest move then, that he did not finish you right then and there, but to grasp your mask, carefully and tenderly, pulling it down, revealing his face to you.

Frozen, shocked and taken aback by this move, you held completely still. Lips slightly parted, eyes wide. It was this that he had chosen as the prize for his victory. To see his opponent. You looked at him all surprised, yet unmoving in his arms, as the soft fabric brushed past your lips and beneath your chin. Not as surprised as himself however, the great Scorpion looking admiringly, dumbfounded even at your features, still for just a moment. The moment passed. Then another. Neither spoke nor moved. Both out of breath. Both exhausted and yet so intensely concentrated. On each other - in a different way this time around.

Sensibility only slowly returned to you. But when it did you remembered what was truly happening. That the man, no matter how close now, was a killer who would take you hostage if you did not change something about your situation fast. And so another moment passed.

A moment you had to use in your favor. You were swift and determined. With a deft twist of your body, you managed to break free from his grip, turning the tables on him. You landed a series of powerful blows, using the momentum you'd gained from your evasion to kick at the back of his knee, then at his chest.

The man grunted, his composure momentarily shattered. His speer clattered to the ground, and he staggered backward. There was an undeniable sense of satisfaction that surged through you as you overcame him, a fire in your eyes that matched the sparks of attraction that had flared between you. You had grasped his own blade, moved so quickly, and then -

Pointed it at his throat. Silence fell. Time stood still, for but a moment, just as it had before. The great scorpion, beat by his own blade, hieving, staring you down. Admiring the fire in your eyes.

Just as you were about to speak to him, something unexpected happened. The heat of the air disappeared. Replaced by cold. Then a swishing noise.

You heard Scorpions hiss, felt him lunge at you, grasping you, turning you around in his arms, trying desperately to protect you. It was because of him that instead of your heart, itr was your shoulder that was pierced by ice. Then a searing pain rushed through your shoulder, and you cried out in agony, collapsing into the man that was no longer fighting, but holding you. Blood stained your clothing, and the world spun around you as you sank to the ground.

The man, who had been your adversary just moments ago, now knelt by your side, a mixture of shock and concern in his eyes. "No," he muttered, his voice tinged with regret. He hadn't wanted this outcome.

His accomplice approached, the icey air still prevalent around him, his face pale as he noticed his brothers scattered around you. One laying, one holding you.

Scorpions gaze shifted between you and his accomplice, a protective instinct rising within him. "We need to save her," he declared, the urgency in his voice clear. "She's not our enemy, and you just gravely wounded her."

“She’s in our territory, brother. What has gotten into you.” “She saved Tomas!” “She’s a threat, and i won’t let you-”

Voices faded around you. You felt strength leaving you. Heard your own heart beating. And felt warmth, above all, lull you in.

The encounter had taken an unexpected turn, and what had once been a battle of wills had transformed into a complex mixture of attraction, duty, and the shared desire to keep you alive.

[makrokosmuss-blog]

Cold to the touch

Summary: Bi-Han has you, prisoner of the Lin Kuei, with your back against the wall, wanting nothing in this realm more than your submission and respect. That you defy him again and again somehow pleasures him even more.

Warning: Nothing serious. Some boundary breaking. Two very broad brothers being very territorial. Reader can be either seen as reader or Harumi. Part I Full Story is on Ao3, found here

She was sleeping. Her hair had dried during the night, after it had been soaked through in the rain yesterday. Now it was laying softly around her head and over her cheekbone. Her chest was rising and falling slowly in deep slumber. He could make out traces of dried blood on her ripped undershirt, where his ice had pierced her skin. Watched closely, at the curve of her soft lips. At her eyes, resting closed, long eyelashes fluttered chut against her cheeks.

Smoke and her lay close. The boy even had her Shirt draped over him still. Bi-Han crouched between them, grasping it. The fabric was soft and he could make out it’s faint, sweet smell. It too had dried and warmed by the fire next to them. A fire that was slowly fading off, since his brother had stopped to spurt it on.

Other than those two here, who seemed dead, as silent as they were in their slumber, Kuai Liang was snoring away behind him. Had since he was a child. And it had awfully bothered the older, since he had been a child as well. Just as back then, Bi-Han grimaced at his brother, then turned to the woman again.

His fascination with her was ever growing. To his absolute surprise. He had seen her fight him. She was not just good. But brilliant. A kind of brilliant that frightened him to the core. Having grown up, learning that no one could ever rival the force and might of the Lin Kuei, it was a shock to see her handle his brother like that.

If her Clan had truly trained her, then she must either be too talented to be with them or they would need to be erased before growing in strength further. His eyes were cold as he looked down upon her. But his feelings swirled within him.

He had not ever seen a woman fight like she had. Had envied his brother for facing her in Combat, as he saw their dance, their connection. Even more so as he laid eyes on her. She was as beautiful as fierce to him. Truly a waste to have her sacrificed for the retaliation and submission of her clan. The thoughts in his head ran rampant. Maybe no sacrifice would be necessary. Maybe there were other uses for her.

Without thinking about it much, his mind occupied by thought of war and strategy, he had replaced her shirt, which he had taken from Smoke, over her body. If it was not for the waging war between their clans, he could form an alliance with her. She had the skill, surely. And she was fierce. She was trained in the art of war and strategy, a clever woman. And a beautiful woman, he dreamed again, watching her from up so close. His eyes trailing over each part of her body, spread out before him. They stayed with her face once more. Fascinated, Captivated. Had found the need and curiosity of running his hand through her hair too greatly to withstand then. Without his gloves on, he followed that urge. Touching her cheek, then running over it, tangling into her hairline. Feeling the softness and fullness of it, after it had curled due to the rain yesterday.

And then feeling the sting of her fiery gaze, as her eyes had opened and found him the second he had touched her. It only made him smile. To see her so intense in her disapproval of his touch. Like a cat, woken from her midday rest, she glared at him. Elegant and beautiful and untamed. So much spite in that woman, so much hostility. So much will.

“I’d advise against ever touching me without my consent. Prince of the Lin Kuei.” Her tone was a sleepy mixture of fierceness and whisper. A growl so soft only a woman could produce it. It did things to him. Stirred him in a way that he was not quite sure he was comfortable with. Which in turn made him more prone towards it. He felt his stomach turning at her tone in the best possible way.

“Give your consent then.” He challenged, a grin not hidden in his voice as he watched her getting up and away from him in a way both elegant and distinctly hostile.

Oh did he love that he did not see a hint of fear in her eyes. He would love to break her majestic facade.

He rose from his kneeling form with her. Again towering over her, as she took skillful steps back and away from him.

“Why would you want it? My consent? And to what ends?” When she asked, there was a clear curiosity in her voice and gaze alike. He had asked that himself. Why would he want her? Why was he fascinated by her? He’d found many reasons then. Too above her to list them, he answered in a shrug, following up to her.

Still she did not look scared. Not as she noticed his gaze traveling down her body and not as he fixed it on her eyes again. She was regal looking even, she held her head high, showing defiance rather than Worry over his dominant form.

“I simply admired your hair. And when I want to touch something, I do. Because I can.”, he finally admitted, trying to resolve their strange tension.

He stood close now, after she had stopped to back off. Close enough to touch, although he did behave himself. “Oh. My hair. I see.”, she spoke, her voice seeping with sarcasm. “It’s your skills really. You baffle me. A strange fascination. As if with a Mountain Lion.” It was grand of him to praise. He very rarely did this. And as he did, his hand rising to meet her, he grasped for a strand of her hair once more, letting it run through his fingers, as her eyes watched him closely. No hint of enjoyment of his precious admiration on her part. Rather cold disdain. She did not push him off though.

She spoke softly then, and yet with an edge to her. “You are the first son, the heir to the grandmaster. I am sure Women with more beautiful hair than mine pile at your feet, begging for your appreciation.” He smiled to himself at that. She was clever too. “Maybe I find liking in you because you don’t throw yourself at my feet.”

He watched curiously as she lifted a brow. Frowning at him, before stating: “You will never see me do such a thing, no. Nor will I ever grant permission of touch. So take your hands off me. Bi-Han.” With that she had placed her hand, so tender and soft, against his chest, giving him a solid shove, her eyes staring at him coldly.

A low, rasp growl escaped him. He did not like that at all. Or did he? Nonetheless, he wanted to, needed to show her how to have respect. He would not accept treatment as such. Swiftly he grasped for her shoulders, first pulling her around and then pushing her up hard against the next tree. Pinning her before him.

She winced. Then hissed at the pain and at him, once more reminding him so very much of an elegant and beautiful cat. He did not mind the little pain he caused her. Not when she was showing so little respect toward the Lin Kuei. Bi-Han took a good while to stare her down then. To put her in her place or take his time giving into obscure fantasies, he did not know. She looked so alluring to him. Absolutely devine in his grasp, so close to him. There was a burning warmth growing in his abdomen. He watched her eyes, the shape of her face, the curve of her lips. Lips looking so soft and so full that he could not stop himself and his want to touch them. Without much restraint he let go of her shoulder, cupping her cheek. Watching her closely as he carefully, ever so softly ran his thumb over her bottom lip. Careful and soft were not usual for him. Yet with her...he had no want to hurt her. Or do anything really against her will. But oh - did he want her to want him. To just give in. Just once. She would simply need a push. He was sure of it.

He bowed his head down towards hers, his cold gaze meeting the rebellious glimmer in her eyes. As he came even closer then, closing the gap of inches between them, he had positioned his head aside hers. Her cheek brushed against his, covered by mask, as he whispered to her in a tone that only made him notice how angered and yet pleasantly agitated he was.

“Do you truly think I need Permission? You are my prisoner.” He spoke this in a whispered tone. His voice even deeper than usual. Give in. He hoped, prayed that she would. Surrender to him in the sweetest, softest delightful way.

He was nearly shocked then, as even in such circumstances she did not falter, even a little. Instead of submitting, she did the opposite once more. Her hand resting on his side, grasping at his robes, the other on his cheek, forcefully turning his head toward her, to face her relentlessly fiery stare. In this demonstration of dominance, wanting her to flinch away from him so badly, she had chosen to get him closer. Not an inch separated them now as she looked him straight in his eyes, her voice filled with disdain and challenge as she raspily hissed at him: “You do need my permission. Since you do not have it, you will need to face me for what you want. And believe me i would fight with all my might, since I would rather lay down my life before having my honor tainted by a man as yourself.”

Her hand still grasped his jaw. Having him between her thumb and fingers, squeezing his mask rather harshly to hold him in position. The other still rested on his side. He felt her nails bearing into his skin. Felt the tension rise to endless heights pressed so close to her, still challenged by her, as she continued: “Do you think I don’t know what you are doing, Bi-Han? You have no interest in me. You are much too honorable and reasonable a man to be controlled by your urges. All you want to do is scare me into submission. All you need is my resounding respect and admiration. Let me tell you, Sub-Zero: You will not earn it this way.”

It had been like a punch to the gut that he had felt then. One that stirred his instincts more than any woman ever had. And oh she was wrong about one thing. She did interest him. Greatly. Highly so.

His jaw pressed shut tightly, grinding his teeth, he thought of an answer. Yet before he could speak again, he felt himself being grabbed and forcefully pulled back.

A force so strong he knew the second he had felt it that it could only be one person pulling him from her. And catching himself in his stumbling he glanced up, bearing his teeth at his brother, who was staring him down in anger and more so, burning rage.

Bi-Han was not interested in him. His eyes trailing over her again, instead. Now half covered by the broad frame of Kuai Liang. She was watching him as well. Her gaze and expression still and observing and questioning.

Questioning his intentions maybe. He himself did that. Only wanting her to fear him, to respect him, yet she did not. And then now, there was someone between them, holding him off on more of his testing.

Since neither had spoken a word and the younger had just awoken to the sight of their prisoner pushed up against a tree by him, he was the first to demand an answer. “Bi-Han?” His name in his brothers mouth came out more as a challenging growl than anything else. An enraged symbol of the want for answers, that showed Bi-Han very clearly that he was not the only one interested in you.

@oranoyaora, @soggychocolatewaffles, @genesiswrld, @deadlydivergentgirl

[makrokosmuss-blog]

Warm Waters

Summary: Feeling frozen to the core and exhausted, you treat yourself. You're enjoying a well deserved, hot bath - when a certain Kuai Liang enters the room and the tension shifts.

Warning: Nothing really. Being Naked. It's...a bath, so duh. MC can be either seen as reader or Harumi. Part I Full Story is on Ao3, found here

The scene you found yourself in, was  one of rare tranquility.  You lay in a deep, warm bath, the steam enveloping you in a soothing embrace. The flickering fire in the background painted the room with a cozy, golden light, casting dancing shadows on the walls. Maids, skilled and gentle, bustled around you, tending to your needs. They had already washed away the grime and blood, oiled your hair, and cared for all your needs. You felt the effects of their care, the cold gradually easing away, leaving you in a state of welcome relaxation. However, the exhaustion still clung to your body.

You lay your head back on the tubs wall.  Exhaling. Then inhaling deeply, exhaling again.  The water smelled sweet. And so did the oils in your hair.  For the first time in weeks you felt like yourself again.  Fine, again. 

As you lay there, enveloped in the comforting warmth, a knock rang through the room.  Your tranquility destroyed.  You moved up, looking over the side of your tub.  The door opened, slowly at that, and you soon recognized who glanced inside.  It was Kuai Liang who entered the room.  His entrance cautious, his steps soft and respectful.  The maids, sensing his presence, swiftly scattered, leaving the two of you alone. Something that you did not know how to feel about. Kuai Liang commanded respect wherever he went, and even the maids were not immune to his influence.

You felt uncomfortable. All bare underneath the water - before him at that. Even more so after all the maids had left you alone with him so suddenly. It made you feel even more vulnerable.  Then again, if any brother was to enter. This one would be the one most in your favor.  He slowly neared, heat overcame you.  His presence somehow managing to raise the room temperature once more. It was not just that heat that overcome you however. You lay bare before him, after all. Hidden only by bubbles and water.

The great man, known as Scorpion, was being shy.  He stood 10 feet away from you. Looking around at the room, never at you.  His hands were on his hips, he was grasping at his robes. He did not wear his mask this time around. A fact you, as always, enjoyed greatly.  The fire cracked homely in the background. The room was warm and completely silent, as only you two now occupied it. 

As your arm was rising out of the water, he managed too look your way. Hearing the movement of the water seemingly made him nervous.  You carefully gestured for him to join you. First waving him over then pointing at the stool next to your tub.  Just moments ago a maid had been sitting there, massaging your scalp. You wouldn't be opposed to him doing the same. He complied, walking over to you slowly, and sitting down while trying his best not to let his gaze wander to your form submerged in the water. You noticed his restraint and appreciated his effort. It was evident that he was a man of respect. But a man - nonetheless. Struggling to keep that respect up. He had taken the seat beside you so strained, so tense. His eyes averted, mindful of your privacy and his own decorum. He respected your vulnerability and maintained a distance, though the air was charged with an unspoken connection.

His voice soft and filled with genuine concern, he inquired, "Do you feel any better?" You nodded, a genuine smile gracing your lips. "Yes, I do. I'm thankful for the moment of peace." You spoke quietly and tenderly, nearly a whispered tone. Any kind of loud noise would destroy this very intimate tranquility.

Kuai Liang's gaze softened as he responded, "I'm very happy to hear that." He was careful not to sound too overtly affectionate, but the warmth in his eyes gave away his true emotions. He couldn't help but care deeply for you. Again, you noticed him staring. Again you said nothing of it.  His gaze was fixed to look right at your face. You watched him closely, as his eyes ran over you as if you were an intricate piece of art.  He caressed your lips with that gaze. Then your cheekbones, over to your eyebrows, finding your eyes, then running down toward your slender neck. Never further down, before returning up. 

He remarked then, with admiration to his voice that made him suddenly sound very hoarse, "You look so very pleasant with a clean face and combed hair. It nearly makes me dizzy. I hope you are feeling as pleasant as you look."

You were taken aback by his candid compliment, your cheeks tinted with a blush.  "Thank you," you replied, your voice silky. Without really noticing that you had moved, you felt yourself sinking lower into the water. As if trying to hide from your shame. It was embarrassing, really. All of this was.  That you were so lost in the voice of that man. So lost it make you lightheaded as well.

For a moment, you both sat in a strained silence. Then again, it was a silence filled with both understanding and unspoken emotions.

Breaking it, you began,  "It's not common, you know? To visit a woman when she is taking a bath. “ Kuai Liang, realizing his intrusion and perhaps revealing more of his feelings than he intended, looked a little flustered but understanding. There was a hint of a stutter as he answered you: "I apologize. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."  His hands ran over his knees nervously. He sat straight as a candle.  You smiled to yourself at his reaction.  You quickly reassured him, "No, it's not that. You do not make me uncomfortable.  I was just curious."

His eyes met yours again.  Fiercely, they looked. You were slightly shocked by just how fast his demeanor had changed from a boyish shyness to absolute concentration and focus on you.  “I don’t?”, he inquired, drawing his brows together.  You blinked, not quite understanding, asking, “You don’t what? I don’t follow…” “I don’t make you uncomfortable? What do I make you, then?”

Now it was you, that was girlishly blushing. The question had come out of the blue.  And to make matters worse, he added:  “I did not seem to make you uncomfortable last night. You feel asleep in my arms rather quickly.”

Your heart nearly stopped.  So taken aback by his sudden brashness, his quick resolve and sudden need to confront you.  “Scorp-” “You know my name.”, he corrected you, before you could stammer any further. 

Looking at him with wide eyes and a heart that was daring to jump out of your chest, you were frozen in place.  Seeminbgly noticing he now had indeed made you uncomfortable, he quickly explained himself.  His voice was now calm, deep and calmingly reassuring as he explained:  “Please. I’d like to hear you say it. It has the sweetest ring in your accent.”

“I…does it? Do I say it wrongly? I am sorry if-” “You say it perfectly.”, he assured you. His eyes as soft as his smile as he dared to glance down at your lips.  You were still horribly nervous. But he was so calm, so soothing, that the effect he had couldn’t go unnoticed.  “Kuai Liang,”, you began, speaking slowly and trying to say it exactly like Smoke and Bi-Han always pronounced it, “I…want to thank you for warming me last night. And for all teh kindness you bestow upon me. But please do understand me, when I feel uncertain about all I feel about you.  You are Lin Kuei. Please understand  my restraint on What i feel for you.. ” With all your rational you knew this man to be dangerous. With all your heart you wanted nothing but to grasp his broad shoulders and pull him into the tub with you.

The way he looked at you, the way he listened so empathetically, it made you feel all comfortable and safe again, even at the words you were saying.  As he answered you, it brought you the deepest reassurance of all. 

“I understand you and respect your decision. All of them. No matter wich one you'll chose to act out.", he began, his voice very much deep, as he spoke your name, “I am just please to see you so comfortable. So enjoying yourself. I can't tell why but it satisfies me beyond belief to see you happy." His eyes were so honest. So full of confidence. He leaned forward then, his hand wanting to reach out for your cheek, but quickly holding himself back. 

You grasped it in yours, before he could pull it back completely.  Hands meeting, yours wet, his warm.  He was staring at your hand on his, very slowly, closing it around yours.  When his eyes found yours again, he spoke with so much conviction, it nearly made you shiver.  “I promise to make sure you will not be harmed by my family. That you will be always most welcome.  My protection and word is one you can count on.”

You could not answer.  Could not move either, as he pulled your hand towards him, his lips meeting your knuckles in the softest kiss. 

He nodded then. Letting your hand go in a very careful manner. As if he had porcelain between his fingers, instead of your hand. He excused himself then, talking too quickly, standing up too quickly, leaving too quickly. "In truth I came to tell you that we've asked for warm food. You can join us in the dining hall as soon as you're ready."

Trying to find an answer - to all of this - you opened your mouth just to close it again.  There was no answer at all.  You thanked him, kindly and unobtrusive and promised you'd be there shortly. 

As he turned to leave, his gaze lingered on you for a moment, unable to resist stealing one more glance. His emotions were evident, and you couldn't help but feel a warmth in your heart. It wasn't strange; it was the beginning of something beautiful, and you couldn't help but be in love with the man who was showing you a side you had never seen before. Wishing, begging it had not been your hand he had kissed.

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