I'm sure someone has already done an idea like this, but I wanted to try it out for myself…. Heheh. Forgive me if you (the reader) are one of the ones who already made one of these.
Disclaimer: I don't own Avatar: The Last Airbender.
The moon perched atop the rosewood window, tipped lightly, almost melancholically, to its side. It seemed to be in dire need of this support, lest it fall off the side and spill its mercury all over the floor. A shawl of onyx and rhinestones was latched tightly about its shoulders, and a chill breeze wafted inside the inn's opening in silent, choked breaths.
A solitary form rose inside the room. He brought a quivering hand to his forehead, and wiped away what felt like an ocean of cold sweat. The silvery light caught the liquid like a mirror, and the figure recoiled sharply at what he saw; he rubbed his hand vigorously against the blanket, destroying the image. In this action, he became all too aware of the form next to him, the set of even breathing issuing from feminine lips, and the smooth contours, outlined by the steady starlight.
His stomach churned. Bile bit the sides of his throat.
A horrible shiver gripped his spine, and his head dipped into his palms for a moment. Mussed locks of chestnut hair floated down between his fingers. Rivulets of something wet dripped down his cheekbones- tears, more sweat, he was spiraling too far into the clutches of depression for him to even register it. Then his body gave a jerk, and his bare legs swung out of the thin sheets, and over the bedside. At this angle, the crooked square of light cast by the window brushed up to his thighs, blanching the regularly dark shade of his skin, and glowing slightly from sweat.
What would she think of the great warrior Sokka now, sitting nude in the darkness, an intense cloud of shame descending unto his mind? With this emotion came guilt, and the warrior found the radiance against his limbs to be agony- so he rolled off to the side and padded out into a darkened corner. The moon was now only a line of resplendence on the slanted window, but still he crouched with bated breath, drawing his knees up under his chin.
Can she see me? he wondered, a prickling at the corners of his eyes. What is she thinking of me right now?
Mortified, Sokka tore his head away from his peeping lover, and instead his gaze came to settle on the mound that was the sleeping woman. The shadows prevented him from perceiving anything other than a silhouette and his vivid memories, but already that was too much.
She was not Yue. She never was Yue. Simply a whore, a call girl, one of many as of lately. When Sokka was passing through the town earlier with the Avatar and his sister, she snagged his attention (as did so many other anonymous girls of various towns) leaning nonchalantly against a shop, her tunic cut low enough to show off her cleavage. But that didn't interest him. Nothing much seemed to catch his fancy anymore, and instead he wandered hollowly with the Avatar, the world's last hope, while hopeless himself.
However, there were some instances, like with that girl knotted up into the bed sheets, in which his wearied heart allowed a trickle of life to shoot through.
She isn't her, isn't Yue. An unknown sensation raged in his jaw muscles. Those ripples of platinum blond dangling from her scalp could never match up to Her strands of pearl; those cobalt eyes were a lame substitute for Her cerulean ones. That one, the one moaning exhaustedly in his bed, was only a doppelganger. They were all fake.
No one could smile at him as She did. No one can melt the confident words on his tongue, pass him a look that saps his limbs of all of their energy. No one, only Yue.
Shh! Did she hear? Sokka rolled to his knees, and crawled on all floors, carefully avoiding the moonlight, and then settled back down, his back against the wall.
I miss her, he watched the shine dance before him. I want her, want to see her.
But she can't see me.
Not like this, not how I am now. She needs to remember me as I was.
And the water tribe warrior nestled his head in the crook under the windowpane, pretending that it was Her that he rested against. His mind began to wander then, sailing backwards, replaying memories in his fragile mind.
A kiss. A tear. A decision. A stroll. A smile. A laugh. A blush. A smile. A glance. Her face. Her soul. Their hearts.
I'm sorry, Yue. Tears dripped heavily down his upturned face now, puddling in his lips. The salt pained some punctures in his lower lip, bitten in by that duplicate in his bed. Whimpers slid from his mouth, but he was careful to keep them soft, or else Yue would turn around, and behold the pitiful thing he had become.
"Are you alright?" Warmth folded over his arms, his chest, his face. That one was there, was holding him tight, like she could replace Yue, be an anchor for his demented mind. "What's wrong?" Her slender fingers wiped his tears away. For a moment he sank into her kind words, her heartbeat, and tried to ignore his mind….
Did she turn around? The warrior's eyes rounded; he stared in silent horror at Yue's outstretched soul. No! Don't look. Not this. Not now. Don't look.
"Oomf!" The nameless whore landed next to his lover, her wretched hair pooling around near her waist, a confused expression manifesting between her eyebrows. Sokka's mouth bobbed furiously, one in ten of the words actually being uttered.
"Get… out… now…." She rose then, shifting her weight from foot to foot, visibly concerned for this disturbed youth.
"…My money…." But the warrior simply glared at her this time, and gestured with a frozen hand to the bedside table, where a pile of coins laid waiting. It took very little time for her to clothe herself, receive her dues, and depart. All the while Sokka pressed himself even closer into the wall.
Now, he slid a foot forward, then another. Will you see me now- see me and not hate me? He rose slowly, still avoiding the moonlight. Teardrops plinked ceaselessly against his collarbones, onto the floor.
Look at me.
Now he was at full height, the brilliance of his love shocking him, humiliating him with her loving caresses. The warrior collapsed against the window frame, sobs wracking his body.
An invisible hand, amorous in its chill, swept across his cheeks. The same expression as given to him by the one that left him with his lover. The same, but different. He reveled in the feeling, the smoothness of Her skin, the grip of nirvana cascading on him; then he lifted his eyelids.
There, faint, her face, Yue's spirit, watching him, forgiving him, understanding.
I love you…
Please review, and thank you for reading. ((grins))