Her smell.

Everywhere she goes she would recognise it. It tastes like nothing else, nothing she has ever known, nothing she will ever know. Flavia can't wrap her head around describing it, she doesn't know if it's sweet or fresh, warm or light, she doesn't need to know, because it's the way she smells, only her.

The first time it felt like a shelter, the second time it mixed anxiety and fear, anticipation and shame. When she allowed herself to give in to it, it felt like coming home. That time she let Javiera's smell blend with her one, cover her skin, fill her in and bring her to life. When she lost it, it became unbearable and addicting at once. The first time she woke up in that scent she knew she was beyond repair, she belonged to it, to the air it blew to her lungs.

Alone in Javiera's shower Flavia finds a shard of her smell, she covers herself in it, she lets hot water take it down her body, she lets steam lift it up to her nose. Alone in Javiera's shower she closes her eyes and smiles.

***

It's been quite a day and Javiera is happy she's finally home. The living room is quiet, Flavia is nowhere to be seen. There's a new vase on the table, colorful fresh flowers gracefully standing in it. Flavia loves buying flowers, loves leaving colorful touches here and there, they bring a little joy, she says but Javiera thinks it to be an understatement. She fills her water bottle and goes to put it in the fridge. Flavia went to the greengrocer, she can tell, for each ledge is now neatly organised with fruit and vegetables arranged for size and colour. Javiera smiles at it, at this trait of Flavia's personality that would look ridiculous but doesn't, because it's the way she is, the way she does things, it’s her way to show her presence in the place she lives in and Javiera loves it.

She goes upstairs and calls for her. Walks towards their bedroom, towards the sound of her voice. Flavia greets her with a soft kiss and she is breathtaking. She has just had a shower, her wet hair looks darker in higher contrast with her pale skin, the slightly reddened eyes only making the crystal blue stand out more. The first kiss calls for a second and Javiera immediately finds her way to the other woman's waist. Flavia pulls back and Javiera reluctantly lets her go. She puts her phone down on the nightstand as she tells about her day, as they talk about things that need to be done in the house and discuss the menu for dinner. Javiera has always been the one for stable relationships, for the cozyness of sharing everyday life, of being there for one another, of arguing about who consumed the shower gel and didn’t fill the bottle in even. The thought makes her smile, she looks at Flavia as they talk and falls under her spell a little more with each second. The older woman doesn't seem to notice, though, she stands next to the wardrobe in her bathrobe, studying a couple of dresses in order to choose what to put on, softly dabbing her hair with a dry towel. Javiera doesn't know if the shape of her hands is to blame, perhaps the natural motion of her long, tapered fingers, the elegance of her always well manicured nails or if it's something hiding under the surface that enchants her, maybe her hands have nothing to do with it, maybe it's about the way she turns to look at her, the subtle frown on her forehead, the wrinkles at the sides of her mouth when she flashes a questioning smile and parts her lips to ask:

"¿Que?"

Javiera gets back into the world, out of the blue, she was caught red-handed and can't deny she was staring, can't deny she was thinking. There should be a lot more to say, if she finds the words, if they existed, she could speak for years, but now she lets out the clearest, simplest thing that comes to her mind:

"Me encanta verte en mi casa." She says, stepping closer.

Flavia smiles and the other woman's hands are on her waist again

"¿Sì?" Flavia teases.

"¡Sì!" Javiera declares and soon her lips are not allowed to speak anymore.

What started small grows wide and deep and it's that smell again. Flavia closes her eyes and lets it in. Feels it knocking on her lips and opens the door, and turns the lights on and unrolls a carpet at its feet, and lights the fire up in the hearth to let it spread among the spirals of hot air. Javiera's scent blows through Flavia’s hair and on her skin, somehow seeping in through her pores, deep to inflate her lungs. The younger woman's fingers work on the knot that holds her bathrobe tight around her body and it uncloses, and it’s like opening the curtains at dawn. The way Javiera looks at her makes Flavia hold her breath, makes her heart stop. The other woman's palms cup her breasts and she holds them there, follows their slow movements, enjoys the thrill they send down her spine. Gentle, trembling fingers part Javier's lips, the tip of Flavia's tongue teases them, tastes wanting and anticipation on them, looks for something more, something she knows how to dig out, and the world turns the lights off.

Undercover of an enchanted darkness cars running back and forth down the street make no sound, golden rays of a slowly dying sun whisper the illegible words of a long forgotten melody, colours are muffled but brighter than ever, soft like in the middle of a velvet fog.

The precious skin of Flavia's breasts shines like nacre, in wild competition with the endless blue of her eyes. Javiera kisses her woman's neck and hers her moan, her fingers holding her head close as she takes a deep breath. Perhaps fire smells like this, Flavia considers, the same fire that's printing marks on her skin, that's now leaving her cold and unbelievably hot. Flavia lets a soft groan escape again and her bathrobe falls from her shoulders, with nothing else to hold it, it flops on the floor.

From this moment on it's a dance, like their first time. Flavia has never stopped recalling it, their bodies swinging through her room, her knees weak until they gave in and she ended up sitting on the couch with Javiera between her thighs. She was as scared as hell that time, she didn't know what to do, didn't know what she was supposed to do. That time she couldn't believe her eyes, her ears, her skin, her lips, she couldn't believe it to be really happening, being better than any of her way too frequent fantasies, so much better.

Now she knows what to do, knows what to expect, still the touch of Javier's fingers makes her head spin, still she feels like she can't take a breath deep enough to let all of that smell in, still the only thing she can do is giving all of herself to this woman.

Wet kisses go down her chest, make her quiver in anticipation as they go further, past her navel and make her spread her legs. The first contact with Javier's mouth is almost enough to make her pass the border, is definitely enough to elicit a raspy growl from her throat. She feels Javiera smile at it, she pictures her satisfied gaze and feels it pouring out her sex. She opens her eyes and is hit by the most dangerous sight of all, the one she is sure that could kill any person: Javiera is lapping her up, sucking her labias and clit, her mouth wet with her fluids and saliva. Flavia is not able to suppress moans and gasps, closes her eyes, focuses on that feeling and takes a few deep breaths. The inspector pulls back and when the other woman opens her eyes she is transfixed by her gaze, by the smell of her own arousal on her lover’s flushed lips. They are still looking at each other when two fingers slip with frictionless circles on Flavia's erected clit and she knows she can't last too long. As primitive as it sounds nothing takes Flavia out of her mind like her own taste on her woman's lips, like chasing it with her tongue in order to swallow it all. It makes her feel a violent sense of possession, of belonging, it drives her wild. Three fingers effortlessly penetrate her as Javier's palm cups her sex, stimulating all at once with perfect little movements, more throbbing than trusting and Flavia is so close. A thin layer of sweat covers their heated bodies, makes their scent mix with the strong smell of sex in some intoxicating blend that will always tell them about this, about their addiction to one another.

Between enthusiastic gasps and heavy breaths on each other's smiling mouths Flavia lets go and Javiera drives her orgasm a little longer, bewitched by the body of her lover, tensed in an arch, trembling with aftershocks, by white sheets held by whiter knuckles, of red lips open in a silent scream, of reddish curls spread like a crown, like a fire halo around the most precious face Javiera has ever seen. She stops, eventually, and pulls up on her knees, taking advantage of the newfound distance to fully catch the scene in front of her.

With her eyes closed and her lips parted, Flavia tries to catch her breath and her face, and her worn out body is nothing short of enchanting. Minutes fall in drops as Javiera licks her own fingers clean, lingering on her lover's flavour a little more. Flavia slowly gulps, sighs with a satisfied smile and crystal blue eyes unclose so the lights turn on, all at once.

"¿Qué pasa?" She laughs and covers her face with her hand as she does so, and she’s so cute that it’s unfair, she's so beautiful that it aches. She's happy, as simple as it is at times, trivial as it may sound, this makes butterflies fly in Javiera's stomach.

"Mirate, sólo mírate" the inspector lets out like a too loud thought, as the warmer gaze she can give comes to cover the other woman like a blanket.

"Tu me miras a sufficienza por la dos" Flavia laughs again, furiously blushing "a fuerza de mirarme notarás todo lo que no está bien conmigo" she bitterly snorts and is suddenly unable to look up.

Javiera's smile breaks at it: "¿Por qué piensas esto?" She asks and recognises the same look she saw in Flavia's mirror when she thought she was too old to deserve happiness.

"Por que no soy perfecta" Flavia says and sits up, and looks down at her hands, silently asking them to stop trembling.

"Sì se, sì se, nadie es." The younger woman starts, trying to stop the shaking of Flavia's hands with a soft kiss, almost succeeding.

"Pero yo no quiero tener una mujer ideal y 'perfecta', una especie de divinidad que se ve bien solo en los altares y en la fantasía" Javiera answers honestly "No, yo no sé qué hacer con una mujer así. Yo te quiero còmo eres, aquí, en la vida real, en mi casa, en mi pieza, en mi cama." Javiera smiles, in a way that starts mischievous but ends up tender.

"Te quiero con tus inseguridades y tu fuerza, con tus arrugas y tus ojos."

Flavia feels a lump in her throat and doesn't say anything, looks as the other woman gets close enough to touch her and shuts her eyes, and feels the gentle contact with Javiera's forehead, and shyly smiles.

None of them needs to keep eyes open to see one another, Javiera knows the way to Flavia's lips by heart and tries her best to say it all like this. Flavia responds, of course she does, she has no choice, she has never had one, she's so soft, so heavy and yet so light in Javiera's arms. She found some wonderland in the pure green of her eyes, she got lost chasing the wind, walking through the paths of colorful stones embroidered in the soil, shaping the clouds above her head, always looking up, forgetting about a time when she was down.

If there is a way out of this place she doesn't want to know, she doesn't need it.

A moisty breeze vibrates against Flavia's lips and all of her body shivers.

"Te amo, Flavia" a raspy whisper comes to her out of a trembling chest, as loud as a secret, the flutter of transparent wings, a snowflake that eases down on her cheek.

"Te amo" softly pounds in Flavia's ears, and she's whole. Only this, and nothing more.