30 Kisses Challenge 13: excessive chain
Inspired by Irrel's Blue SpiritxKatara picture from a while back ago. (it's called blue, for the Avatar100) You can find it in my fav's on Dev. Art, I believe. This is sort of a 'what happens next?' drabble, based on the art.Thread
His shirt was gone; he noticed when he first woke up. So was his mask, he quickly realized, and for a moment, panicked. Where was he? What had happened?
Where was Katara!
The last thought caused him the most panic and was the one he tried to forget quickest. He had no business thinking about this girl, his own person damsel in distress (never mind the fact that she could defend herself, but somehow always needed his help at just the right moment) and yet he could not stop the numbing his mind was going through. He had to find her, had to make sure she was safe, had to—
"Katara," he breathed almost-silently, relief flooding through him like nothing he had ever felt before. She was sitting beside a small fire, needle and thread and his shirt in her hands. He wanted to run to her, to grab her into his arms, to feel her, make sure she was okay…but he stopped.
His mask was gone.
Had she seen him? Did she see his face? If so…why didn't she run away? Was she waiting to confront him? Waiting to fight him? Did she hate him? (Why was she still mending his shirt?)
Did she trust him?
She stopped her sewing, letting out a heavy sigh. Her needle and thread dropped to the ground beside her, and for a moment, he forgot to breathe (what was he suppose to say?) He wondered if she had seen him at all, before she stood up, removing all of his doubt. A black, bloodstained shirt remained in her hands as she walked towards him, her eyes downcast.
"I sewed your shirt back together." She said softly, standing a little farther from him than normal (or so it seemed to him). She placed the recently mended shirt in his hands, her eyes still not meeting his. "Are you feeling okay?"
For the first time since he woke up, he became vaguely aware of the large, white wraps around his waist, no doubt keeping him from bleeding. He didn't understand—couldn't she heal…?
"The wounds were too deep," she explained, seeing his confused expression. "I couldn't heal them with my waterbending, so I wrapped them. Does it still hurt?"
He shook his head; she let out a sigh of relief. (She still cared…?)
"I was afraid to leave you, while you were injured. I—I wanted to make sure you were…that you were okay before I left." She said slowly, her face downcast and eyes watery. "I guess if you're okay I should go, huh? I can make it back to camp from here…isn't too far away, I just wanted to be sure…"
"Katara," He whispered, his voice husky from disuse. She stopped her rambling, turning to look at him in surprise.
"What is it?" She whispered in return, her eyes wide with fear (or maybe something more).
"Say something." He thought aloud before he could stop himself. "Say something, please."
She looked away, crestfallen. "I have nothing to say."
"Don't give me that!" He growled at her, the roughness of his voice staying. "You can't have nothing to say! There has to be something, damnit! Give me…give me something."
She turned hastily, her eyes filled with tears as she glared at him. "What do you want me to say! That I hate you? That you lied to me? That the…the Blue Spirit isn't real, that he's actually you? Do you want me to forgive you!" She yelled, all of the passion she had so skillfully kept hidden sinking into her words.
He let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. "At least it would be something."
She turned her head, rubbing the few traitorous teardrops off of her cheek. "I can't hate you." She admitted softly, more so to herself rather than him. "I tried. I sat there for hours, just staring at you, telling myself to just get up and leave, but I couldn't. Because I didn't hate you. And if I left…if I left you and something happened, something went wrong…"
Her blue eyes went up, gazing softly into his eyes for the first time in what seemed like forever. "If something went wrong, and you had been killed, or injured, or worse, I would have never forgiven myself. Because I can't hate you. Because I don't hate you. I tried, I really did." She confessed.
"I tried to tell myself that you lied to me, that you…I don't know, used me, but you didn't. You never did. You were just someone I wasn't expecting. I don't know who I was expecting to be behind that mask, but it wasn't you. And when I found out it was, it terrified me." She wrapped her arms around her waist carefully, keeping herself warm in the cool of the night.
"I found a hero in the Blue Spirit. He was good, honorable…my savior. If I was ever in need, he was there. He looked after me, made sure I was okay and that I always made it back safely. He…I…You…" Tears were now spilling from her eyes at an alarming rate, at which she no longer had any control over.
"I thought I was in love with him!" She yelled, admitting finally as she turned away from Zuko, ashamed. "I thought I was in love with him, and now he's you and I just…I can't…"
"What's the difference?" He spoke softly, stepping closer to her, his eyes staring blankly into her own. (She was in love…?) "What's the difference between the two? What does the Blue Spirit have that I don't?" He grabbed her by her arms, forcing her closer to him.
She stared at him. "Don't ask me that." She commanded. "Don't ask me that…please, don't ask me that…"
"What's the difference!" He screamed, his patience finally dying out. "We're the same person, damnit, tell me what's the difference!" He shook her, anger seeping through his veins. "What can I do? Tell me—what did he do that made you fall for him? What can I do to make you fall for me like you did for him!"
Her mouth gapped open; his mind was reeling. "You can't be serious…you aren't serious, are you? Tell me you aren't serious."
"I'm as serious as I can be." He said, the fire in his eyes glowing.
In a moment of rash haste, he pulled her closer, engulfing her lips with his own. She did not pull away, but like the ice she wielded melted in his arms, allowing the passion of the moment to consume her. She kissed him back just as hard, just as fully, opening her mouth to deepen the kiss. For just a moment (they needed no longer) the world did not matter, and it never would, for all that they would ever need could be found in a kiss.
Eventually the need for air arose, and they pulled apart, but just barely.
"There is no difference." She whispered slowly, her hand resting against his cheek contently. "There never was." Her breathing was sporadic, barely caught before she leaned in to continue what he had started.
Well, how's that for a drabble!
I like it. I really, really like it.