Chapter 4

Mystery POV-

Dear Toph, I think about you everyday, and every night, you are my shining star, my only glimmer of hope. I wish that you would give in and we could be together, you wonderful goddess, but I will never give up. As Edward Cullen once said, ‘You are exactly my brand of Heroine’. Please, come meet me at the market tonight. You know the one. We kissed there. You remember don’t you?

You will probably laugh at this letter, but, I don’t know how to express my love for you any other way than with honesty.

With love and adoration,

Your Sokka.

A spike of jealousy runs through my heart. This traitorous bastard is in for hell from me.

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Sokka’s POV

I walk out of the building via the front entrance. This is technically not allowed, the staff is supposed to enter and exit from the door at the back of the kitchen, but I find this way attracts more female attention.

But today, to my own surprise, two things are drawn to my own attention.

Firstly, I am too preoccupied with something Toph said to me about 5 minutes ago to care about female attention (other than hers).

Secondly, my sister, the loveliest of the Cymbeline girls, is standing outside waiting patiently to get into Toph’s restaurant, with a man on her arm. (I don’t recognize him.)

“Uh, hey Katara and, um, friend. Fancy meeting you here.”

“Oh hi, uh, Sokka, did you say your name was?” Oh I get her, she’s playing the, I do not know him; we met once at work, card on me. What does she think if she admitted I was her brother, I’d embarrass her or something?

“Yeah, wow busy night, who’s this then?”

“Oh this is then man of the hour! His name is Jet.” The man looks at me with a cigarette hanging from his mouth and then plucks it out to talk to me.

“You’ve got shit on your skirt, man.”

I stare at him in silence and then, lost for logical words, I stammer; “Yeah well, smoking kills.”

He looks at me incredulously, and then his face scrunches up in rage as he yells; “Who the fuck are you to talk, shit-skirt?!”

I look up and realize my mistake, when I notice two very threatening-looking people.

I apologize hastily to him, and he stalks off to go see to his staff. I turn to Katara to enquire about who she is going to tell jet I am.

“What shoot was I the photographer at then Tara?”

“I’m sorry Sokka, it’s just you have a habit of… causing trouble. And he didn’t even know who you are yet.”

“Fine then, but you owe me. I have a lady problem, and I wanna talk about it when you get home.”

“Uh, I might be a little bit busy when I get home-“

“Say no more PLEASE. I want to talk to you tomorrow, when you get up, after Jet has fucked off to shag his henchmen.”

“Jet’s not gay Sokka!” Which you would know, if you had any awareness of the world around you.”

“I have better things to do than read Cosmopolitan Tara.”

“Yeah, like sit on your bed wanking to ‘How Let the Dogs Out’.”

“I was fucking CHECKING MYSELF!”

“Whatever. Anyway, Jet is the singer in a band called the ‘rebel warriors’.”

“Wow. His originality for names astounds me.”

“Fuck you Sokka-“

“Is he bothering you babe?”

Jet is suddenly standing over us.

“No, it’s fine Jet, I think I’m ready to go in now.”

Katara waits until Jet isn’t looking, and then shoos e away with her arms, afterwards, giving a half hearted little wave, and then proceeding to go blow of his neck and snuggle into his arms.

I turn to face the staring line of people outside the restaurant, and give them my most charming smile and head off for the subway,

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After taking a choking the chicken (no I did not listen to ‘who let the dogs out’, it was ‘Can’t get you out of my head’ by the wonderful kylie), taking a bath, and eating enough Chinese food for 10, I flopped down on the couch (the most expensive of fake leather).

I am distressed and surprised when Katara storms into the room in a raging flurry, and slams the ‘door’ to our Japanese room separator thingies, so I think quickly for a man with Kung Po Chicken hanging out of his mouth, and quickly shove the greasy convenience food to the side.

I tentatively tap on the door frame, as the actual door is made of expensive fabric with a floral motif. Upon receiving no answer apart from stifled sobs, I creep into the room.

She has flung herself onto the king-size bed and is practically eating on of the pillows.

“…Katara?”

“Snoff..air!!! I ddnn, hhrr hmm!”

“Tara, you’re gonna have to remove your head from the decorative pillow.”

“Sokka!!!!!!”

“Um, yes?”

“It’s Aang!”

“Where? What did he do Katara?”

“He, he.. He broke up with me!!”

Here she shoved her face back into the pillow, which can’t have been pleasant, as I spotted rather a lot of dribble and snot on it and around her face, when she had been yelling.

“Well, Tara, I mean, can you really say it’s a surprise?”

Then she turned around and looked at me. And for a second, it was just like things used to be, before Katara discovered being pretty, got you things, and I discovered, I wanted to give things to pretty girls.

She looked me in the eye, smudged make-up and all and properly spoke to me.

“Sokka, I’m a bad person aren’t I.”

I looked down at her and sighed, sat down next to her, and cuddled her into my chest.

“Tara, you just have a lot of love to give. And I think you need to work out, who you want to focus it on.”

“You know, that’s just like what Aang said to me. He was madder though. He told me I had to work out who I was in love with, and that he knew it wasn’t him!”

More tears ran down her cheeks, and I pushed her to arms length and smiled reassuringly.

“Is he right?”

“Well… I don’t know! Do love him, but with Zuko, everything is just so passionate, and fiery. I love them both.”

“Sounds like you should give all of your attention to Zuko and see how it goes.”

“Are you sure?”

“No, but you’ll know how you feel at least.”

“Ok.”

“Now, Tara…?”

“Yes Sokka?”

“Can you help me out with little problem called Toph?”

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Love and hugs any reviewers…

Sorry about slow update, I’ve been ill.

Will try to update tomorrow.

xx