Title: Truth, a.k.a "Tonight"

Author: Tempest in Blue

Genre: Angst/ Romance

Rating: M

Summary: "Tonight, she was more beautiful than he had ever seen her before. But tonight, she wasn't his."

Warnings: adultery/cheating fic. Don't like, don't read.

Disclaimer: Bryke and Nick own Avatar. Dammit. :-/

A/N: Thanks to the wonderful CoppeliaD for helping me work out the kinks. This oneshot is for number 18 of my Zutara 100.

He had watched her face as she rode the waves of passion, entranced by what he saw there. For tonight, hers was not the expression which he had grown accustomed to seeing. Neither the sweet, loving look she would have whenever she lay back to let him take her, nor the peculiar look of concentration she would wear when he neared his finish were visible on her face. And he knew that tonight she wouldn't open her eyes when it was over, and smile and lie as she told him yet again that it was normal and alright that he had enjoyed it more than she had, and then roll over and pretend to go to sleep.

Because, tonight, her eyes were not closed. Tonight, as he had watched her face, he had seen fierce joy, passion, ecstasy, and love.

Tonight, she was more beautiful than he had ever seen her. She seemed to glow ethereally in the candle light as beads of sweat glistened on her bare naked mocha skin and her hair hung loosely down her back. Her every move appeared fluid, and yet wild, like the waters she commanded. Tonight, she was a goddess.

Tonight she did not make the sounds he had grown used to hearing from her. There were none of the little sighs and half moans that would escape her as she would bite her lip to keep herself quiet, out of what he had always thought to be embarrassment or modesty.

Tonight, she was not silent. Tonight, her beautiful voice rang out through the sultry air of the summer night, and all he could seem to hear were her throaty moans of pleasure, mixed with breathy, passionate cries of Yes! and Oh, Spirits! and I love you! Over and over and over he had heard her say it—I love you! I love you! I love you! I love you!—with a fervor and passion he had never heard from her before.

She had never seemed more perfect, more passionate, more sexy, more beautiful, more herself than she was tonight. And as he had watched her while he stood frozen in place in the darkness of the hallway outside the bedroom, he had felt his heart break, because tonight she wasn't his.

Tonight, his were not the pale, strong hands that roved over her body—stroking, clutching, kneading a her thighs, her hips, her breasts. His were not the lips that pressed against her shoulders, her neck, her face.

His was not the hair she was clutching, the back she was scratching. His were not the eyes she was gazing into with such lust and adoration. His were not the hips she was straddling, nor the name she was calling as she neared the heights of her ecstasy.


No, tonight she was not Aang's, and perhaps she never would be again.

And as he had finally turned and walked back outside, back to where he and Appa had landed so recently, arrived early from his trip to Ba Sing Se, Aang realized that perhaps, in truth, Katara had never really been his at all.