[taste] Title: Taste
Prompt: #22 - Taste
Genre: fluffy
Warnings: mini-spoilers for the series and Endless Waltz, but really tiny ones. Also, this is DEFINETLY different from my 'normal' writing style (and shorter too. Sorry!). I was experimentating with this one *nervous*
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 581

Disclaimer:- I don't own Gundam Wing. I don't even own the prompts that I'm using to write the fics. I only own a somewhat crappy computer and it's not worth a lot. I'm not making any profit with my fics. You will have another 98 chances to believe in what I say 8D

Notes: beta-ed by the lovely [info]cristal. I can't thank you enough nee-chan~♥

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The way we started off never really let me even cogitate that, one day, we would get to the point where we did.

Our first encounter tasted like gun powder and adrenaline.

And it was all so fast and unexpected that soon, way too soon, it was over and all that was left for me was the salty taste of sand and sea breeze.

But it didn't take long for us to meet again.

Our second encounter tasted like smoke and rock, cold air and escape and a rare sense of trust, exchanged during a critical moment.

That was followed by days that tasted like grease and nights that tasted like moon, and before I could get used to the heady combination, before I had time enough to learn how to enjoy all the new sensations that his presence brought with itself, our ways took us to opposite directions.

And then there were many hours that tasted like silence, and those made me realize that I didn't miss them as much as I once thought I did.

From our next encounters after that, all I can remember afterwards is the taste of metal and sweat.

And expectation and fear and uncertainty.

Surprise and gratitude.

And blood and tears and finally victory.

Our last contact tasted like goodbye, but it was the slightly bitter tang of disillusion on my tongue that made me wish I could see you again at any cost.

And for a long time, my days tasted grey and monotonous. Incomplete and imperfect.

Our next meeting happened a year later, and even though the circumstances were less than perfect and as far as they possibly could be from what I had envisioned, I could feel electricity. I could feel the air charge between us, stronger than ever.

Tasted like coming home.

Tasted like snow, fight and pain.

And again, it tasted like victory, even better and stronger than before.

It was just a few days later that I felt in my lips the very much missed taste of surprise. I would never imagine that my first kiss would taste like bandages and anti-septic.

And even so, I wouldn't trade it for the finest and sweetest of chocolates.

My second kiss tasted like hurry and shyness and uncertainty, and the third was thick and lasting like caramel.

Just like the fourth, fifth, sixth and many other that came after that.

Our first fight tasted like storm, and our first reconciliation tasted like rain, crystal clear water and wet earth.

Our first night together tasted like saliva and need and small tears, salty like skin.

And the ones after that had all sorts of flavors.

Cake and chocolate cookie ice cream. Soap and shampoo and ice-cold water. Softener and detergent and well pressed sheets.

Just like his kisses.

Mint fresh, strawberry and cinnamon. Toothpaste , coffee and cream. Grass and leaves and oranges, warmed by the sun.

The winters tasted like warm chocolate, popcorn and wood cracking on the living room's fireplace. Summers tasted like beer and hot asphalt, and lemonades in the end of the day.

Saturday mornings tasted like jogging and hot dogs at the park and Sunday afternoons tasted like laziness.

The nights taste like stars and strong arms, keeping my body warm and safe.

He surprises me each new day, opening my eyes for how unique everything around me is.

And I'm sure that without him by my side, life wouldn't taste as good as it does.