katmarajade: Woman drinking coffee with words "wake up" over her face (xmas kitten)
[personal profile] katmarajade
Title: In the Early Morning Light
Author: [livejournal.com profile] katmarajade
Written for: [livejournal.com profile] thimble_kiss
Pairing: Zacharias/Millicent
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 639
Prompt: scent of a woman
Summary: In the early morning light Zacharias wonders at his wife's unique beauty.
Notes: Wow, I was in such a sappy mood when I wrote this! Have some sappy!adoring!Zach!

Zacharias wakes up slowly and leisurely, feeling the warmth of curtain-filtered sunshine and the tingling that indicates he's lost sensation in his arm. This is his favorite time of day.

He opens his eyes, only part-way, just enough to look at her. Millicent is fast asleep, breathing slow and steady. He watches the early morning light play across her face, making her creamy skin look even more radiant.

Her messy curls are squashed beneath her flushed cheek. He knows she'll scowl and sweep them back into a clip as soon as she's coherent enough to notice; she always does. He loves these secret moments when they escape their confines, dark and sensual, somehow mysterious and forbidden, seeming to sway of their own accord. He's always been fascinated by her hair.

He breathes her in, still dizzy from the scent of her, even after all these years. She's never liked perfume, for which he's thankful. Why use an air freshening charm in a flower garden? She's natural—spicy and sweet, smoke, musk, and hair oil. She's perfect. It's that scent that dances through his dreams, that makes his body tighten with want.

It's always been like this for him, since the moment she walked into the barrister office he works at. Her scent, her skin, her hair. He thinks she's the most intoxicatingly beautiful woman he's ever known. Silky soft skin; dark, lustrous curls; piercing brown eyes that spot his bull-shit a mile away; wide hips that he loves to hold onto, his hands running over the warm curves, gripping the softness of her; strong, capable hands that show that she knows how to work and isn't afraid of getting dirty; and that incredible scent. She may not be picture perfect like the girls in magazines, but she's real. And she's all the more stunning because of those touches of reality, the scars, the lumps, the slightly crooked teeth. She's real and she's beautiful.

She always looks at him like he's mad when he says it. And the looks had been even fiercer and more defensive when he first began his (admittedly painful) attempts at wooing her, the strong, confident gorgeous woman who never took his crap and didn't seem to give a damn about his childhood failures. She'd argued at first, refused to believe him.

It's a matter of pride for him that he's managed to convince her of his sincerity and win her heart in return. Six years of sincere compliments and promises, desperately trying to get her to see what he sees, what he's always seen. He messed up more than a few times along the way—he never was a smooth talker. He's easily frustrated, easily angered, and quick to run off at the mouth, but he's also fiercely loyal to those he loves and quick to recognize his own failures, especially his infamous temper. Perhaps it was his penchant for brutal honesty and inability to deal with the superficiality of social niceties that finally convinced her. He's not sure, just thankful that she's realized it.

She believes him now, at least she believes that he genuinely thinks of her as the most beautiful woman he knows. She doesn't argue anymore or try to change his mind. She doesn't glare, trying to figure out what he's up to, what game he's playing. Now she just gives him a look, affectionate exasperation. (To those who don't know her like he does, it might appear like a glare; he knows better.)

And he'll continue to wake up each morning and watch his wife as she lies there, softer and more peaceful in slumber, without worries or insecurities clouding her face.

He breathes her in, the scent so comfortingly familiar, so right, so full of warmth and love; and he knows that nothing else could ever be this good.
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