Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Come on, Katara. It’ll be fun! You can’t just shut yourself in your room and study all the time.”

Katara rolls her eyes at Suki’s teasing. This might be the first party she’s been convinced to attend all semester, but it’s not like she never has fun. She’s been having a rough time of it with classes this year, anyways. The break from her freshman year shenanigans is hardly a bad thing.

Suki seems to notice Katara’s expression and elbows her. “Oh, come on. It’s a Friday night! You have two whole days to recover if we decide to get wild tonight.”

“I don’t think I’m planning on getting too wild tonight,” Katara teases back. She needs to be somewhat functional. Besides, being shitfaced drunk—especially in public—has always felt…unnerving.

Suki frowns and Katara senses another jab is on the way.

“But—I’m sure it’ll be lots of fun,” Katara quickly adds. “You said Toph might show up later, right? She never needs to get drunk to cause chaos.”

That gets a laugh out of Suki. Toph is a force of nature sober, and after a few drinks, she’s truly a sight to behold.

“That’s true,” Suki replies with a snort. “But don’t be afraid to loosen up a little, you know? I’ll be right there with you.”

“I know you will,” Katara says warmly as they approach the house. Ever since Suki and Sokka started dating, she’s been fast friends with Katara. Suki might be one to drag her to a party every so often, but Katara trusts that she has her back, always.

“Of course,” Suki says. A mischievous light suddenly comes into her eyes. “You know…this frat is mostly Fire Nation boys. I could help you score some hot stuff if you’d like.”

Katara turns bright red and shushes her before someone hears. They’re at the door! Is this why Suki really wanted to take her out tonight? Hot stuff…

Suki just laughs again as they walk inside. “I just thought you might want to meet somebody new. It’s been three months since Haru, nothing wrong with putting yourself out there!”

“If you’re going to tease me like this, you’d better find me a good one!” Katara calls out over the blasting music inside the house. She’d parted on good terms with Haru, but it is still a bit lonely sometimes.

“Don’t worry!” Suki yells back. “I’m not letting just anyone date my best friend!”

Katara laughs and lets Suki pull her onto the dance floor. It’s loud and crowded, but Katara really has been missing it in a strange way. She quickly falls into the rhythm with Suki, sharing brief bouts of conversation with drunk party goers stumbling through their little circle.

It isn’t long before they’re making their way to the bar. Suki seems pretty intent on getting drunk; Katara wonders if she’ll have to be on drunk-sitting duty, especially if Sokka shows up. Although she can’t deny, it can be quite a fun job at times. This crowd always puts on quite the show.

“Two punches, please!” Suki calls out over the noise of the room as she digs in her wallet. “Don’t worry Katara, on me!”

“Thanks! I’m still only having one, though!” Katara teases.

“Fair enough! These things are pretty strong!”

It doesn’t taste very strong, but Katara supposes that’s the point. She doesn’t mind though; Suki is right. She’s feeling more relaxed already. Suki gives her a wink as they make their way back towards the main room. There’s a heated game of beer pong happening, and Suki seems intent on seeing the result.

Katara’s only half paying attention. Even with her heels, she can’t quite make out what’s happening beyond the occasional wave of cheers.

Something bumps into her from behind, and she spins around just in time to see a drunk girl stumble forward and splash her shirt with beer. Without thinking, Katara puts her drink down on the window ledge to her right before steadying the girl.

“I’m so sorry,” the girl slurs, catching her balance. “Your shirt is so pretty, I didn’t mean to spill, sorrysorrysorry—”

“It’s fine,” Katara assures as the girl gets back to her feet. “It’ll wash right out.”

The girl looks like she’s about to burst into tears before she gives Katara a tight hug and stumbles away. Katara smiles. Has to be a freshman.

WIthout thinking, she picks her punch back up and turns to see how the beer pong game is going. From the sounds of it, someone just made an impressive shot. Katara cranes her neck to see. She tries to ask Suki, but the crowd is too loud to hear over.

“Hey,” Katara suddenly hears a voice whisper straight in her ear.

She suddenly gets the uncomfortable feeling that someone is just too close and instinctively shifts away. There’s a tall, tanned guy standing beside her, wearing an open shirt and a smirk.

“I’m Chan,” he says, leaning forward again. “It’s pretty loud in here, how about I show you upstairs? I’ve got some more drinks up there.”

“Um…no thanks. I’m here with a friend,” Katara answers quickly. She does not like the way he keeps leaning into her, thank you.

“Hey Katara!” Suki practically yells, tugging her away from Chan. “You’ve got to come see this!”

Bless Suki, perfect timing as always. Katara breathes a sigh of relief and follows her through the crowd, leaving the guy behind without a second glance.

“So, what did you want to show me?” Katara asks. The room they’re in is refreshing; it’s less loud, with groups of people chatting casually in circles.

Suki rolls her eyes. “Somewhere in this house where that creep isn’t.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” Katara laughs as she slaps Suki’s shoulder. Why did she do that? It must be the punch.

They begin mingling with some other girls in the room, and despite the lively conversation, Katara feels herself begin to sway. Suki really hadn’t been kidding when she said this punch was strong stuff. She does her best to stay alert, stay laughing at the new girl—Ty Lee, right?—telling a story that she’s struggling to follow along with. Fuck, she can’t be the lightweight that gets knocked on her ass by one drink. Her freshman self would have shuddered with shame.

“Hey, Katara?” Suki asks, breaking through the haze. “Sokka just called; he and Toph are at the door. I’ll go grab them real quick and come back here, okay?”

“Sounds good!” Katara says, her voice coming out in a slur. Fucking punch.

She slumps down onto the arm of a couch, watching the crowd mingle in front of her, looking more like a smattering of bright colors by the second. Where is Suki? What’s happening again? Maybe it would be easier if Katara followed her.

Her legs wobble as she stands, but Katara heads towards the door anyway. It’s so hot in here. She feels like she’s suffocating. She needs fresh air…. She needs to rest…. She needs to go rest in the fresh air…

Two hands catch Katara around the waist, and she freezes. She’s not walking forward anymore. She can’t go. Why won’t she move?

“You look like you’ve had a bit too much to drink,” a familiar voice whispers behind her. “I’ll take you somewhere you can lie down.”

Katara tries to move forward again, but another presence in front of her blocks the way. “Need some help, Chan?”

Her mind is growing increasingly foggy, but Katara’s heart rate accelerates as she pieces together what’s happening. Chan—the same guy from earlier, where she’d left her drink—and now his friend—

Katara yanks herself away as forcefully as she can manage. The movement is clumsy, but the hands—which had been creeping lower—release her and she stumbles a few paces. She feels one foot give out, and suddenly everything is spinning and she’s falling to the side.

Something solid and warm prevents her from falling to the floor. Katara doesn’t think twice before clinging to it. Everything is getting so blurry, so numb. She doubts she could walk if she tried. She’s terrified.

Katara doesn’t know where she is. She doesn’t know what’s happening. But she keeps holding on to the warm thing in front of her. There is a flash of concerned, golden eyes above her as she frantically looks around.

Where is she?

Please let this place be safe.

—————

Zuko doesn’t want to be here.

He only joined this frat because of Father’s connections, so he should have known it would be full of stuck-up fucking assholes. At least the booze is free.

Zuko downs the beer in his hand and immediately goes searching for another. He hates the fucking crowds, hates the shitty fucking music that can barely even be heard apart from the booming bass—but it doesn’t matter if he’s wasted. Isn’t that the only reason people come to these shitshows?

He’s finally gotten a fresh fill from the keg when someone slams into his side. Zuko scowls as he realizes he’s dropped his drink on the floor, and some fucking drunk is clinging to his waist.

A pair of wide, blue eyes meet his when he scowls down at the intruder, and suddenly the anger evaporates. Though the faint haze of drunkenness clouding his mind, Zuko realizes this isn’t some stupid joke of a flirt. This girl looks…hurt. Scared.

Zuko gently unwinds her arms from him and tries to get her to stand. It doesn’t work. As soon as she shifts weight back onto her feet, one of her ankles jerks and she gasps in pain. She must have rolled it—not surprising with those heels.

“Hey, are you alright?” he asks her, supporting her weight with one arm. “Do you…want some ice?”

She looks around almost fearfully before murmuring something he can’t understand and nodding vigorously. Fuck, she’s really fucking drunk. Zuko notices Chan and Ruon-Jian leering from a few paces away and his lip curls in disgust. Fucking weirdos. There’s nothing fucking funny about a drunk girl spraining her ankle. She’s still leaning heavily on him, face stuck in a pained grimace.

“I can get you some water, too,” Zuko offers. He can’t just leave her like this. “Is that okay? Wait—are you here with anyone?”

“Mm…name’s Katara,” she slurs. Zuko can feel her shaking as she struggles to stand.

Oh shit, this is bad. He looks around the room but nobody seems to be looking out for this girl—Katara, she’d said. Well, nobody except for Chan and his friends, and Zuko sure as fuck isn’t leaving her with them.

“Is it alright if I take you somewhere to sit down? Sober up a bit?” Zuko sure hopes she will. He really hopes she is here with someone, and hopefully after a bit of water she’d be able to tell him who. Katara seems barely conscious at the moment, and suddenly the idea of leaving her alone in this party feels terrifying. Zuko doesn’t want to think about how many Chans there could be in here.

Katara nods again. “…please.”

“Here, I’ve got you,” Zuko says, offering his shoulder to lean on. She clumsily wraps one arm around him, and Zuko reaches around to support her waist. He waits for her to relax into him before moving; she seems so afraid and he doesn’t want to give her the wrong idea.

Zuko hears someone whistle as he effectively carries her towards the stares. He scowls. Fucking assholes only think about one thing. Can’t they see she’s almost unconscious? He holds her a little tighter, confident in his decision to get her away from this room.

Somehow, a couple stubbed toes and bumped knees later, they make it up the stairs. Katara is nearly a dead weight by the time they reach the end of the hall. How much did she drink tonight? Panic flares within Zuko when he realizes she looks completely passed out. That is never good.

He quickly enters the small common room and clumsily sets her down on the couch. “Hey, Katara? Are you still with me?”

“…huh?” she asks, eyes fluttering open. Oh, thank fuck.

Zuko rushes across the room and rummages around in the freezer. He always has at least one ice pack handy, prone to headaches as he is. His movements are more uncoordinated than he’d like to admit, but he does manage to find the ice pack—and a couple frozen foods that tumble out behind it.

“Here,” he says, kneeling beside the couch and reaching for her ankles. Just before he touches her foot, he pauses. “Can I take your shoes off?”

Zuko takes Katara’s slight nod as a yes, and carefully removes both black heels. He’s extra careful with the injured ankle; it already looks swollen. She jerks slightly as the ice touches her skin.

“Sorry, I know that’s cold,” Zuko mumbles as he wraps it around her, concentrating on doing it as gently and precisely as he can manage in his current state. He looks back at her face for reassurance, but she looks barely conscious. He worries about how long it will be before she’s sobered up enough to make it home.

Water should speed it along, right? Zuko fills a clean cup at the fridge and coaxes Katara into drinking some.

“Here,” he says, making sure she’s awake enough to drink. Some of the water dribbles down her chin, but luckily she does seem to drink a decent amount.

Katara shakes slightly as the water spills down her neck and Zuko realizes she’s shivering. Oh fuck, how could he be so stupid—this floor of the house is drafty, and Katara is not dressed for the cold. The ice pack and cold water probably aren’t helping either.

“Hang on, I’ll be right back,” Zuko promises before rushing into his bedroom to grab his favorite blanket.

He quickly retrieves it and returns to Katara. It’s fluffy and warm, blood-red with the golden outline of a dragon on it. Zuko gently lays it over Katara and tucks it around her shoulders, careful not to touch her too much. She’d looked so terrified when she collapsed into him. The last thing Zuko wants is to make her uncomfortable at a time like this.

“Here, this will help you stay warm,” he says gently. It suddenly occurs to him the weirdness of suddenly putting his blanket on her. “Don’t worry—I just washed it yesterday.”

Oh fuck, now he really sounds like a fucking weirdo. He didn’t mean—it was washed, he doesn’t want her to think she’s touched his sweat—

Katara makes a small sound, and weakly tries to shift herself up. Zuko notices the way she’s heaving slightly and his eyes widen.

Luckily, he’s grabbed the bucket from the corner of the room and placed it in her lap before she lurches again and vomits. It’s an instinct he’s developed from living in a place like this. Zuko places a cautious hand around her back to support her as she heaves and shudders, holding the bucket in place with the other. Fuck, how much did this poor girl drink?

Katara has finally relaxed when a furious voice from across the room gets Zuko’s attention.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing with my friend?”

—————

Suki shoves her phone back into her pocket in irritation. Sokka had said they were just walking down the street, now he’s telling her he stopped to pick up takeout on the way? Sokka and his sudden cravings are bad enough, but Toph is a notorious enabler. Hopefully they'll be here soon.

Wait…shit! Katara! Suki pushes her way through the crowd to where she’d last seen Katara plop down on the couch. She hadn’t meant to leave her this long. Katara was looking pretty tipsy from that punch, last Suki saw.

Suki enters the room and feels her breath catch in her throat. Katara is nowhere in sight. Fuck!

Maybe…she’s just in the bathroom. Suki takes a breath. Where are those girls they were chatting with before?

She spots the bubbly girl with the long braid and rushes over. “Hey, have you seen my friend? The one with the long hair and shiny blue top?”

“Oh, her?” slurs the girl, clearly drunk. “She left a few minutes ago…. Hey! On Ji! Did you see where the blue sparkly girl went?”

“She went upstairs with a boy! Tripped into him and everything!” another girl shouts. “She’s geeeeeetting it!”

Suki’s eyes widen in horror. These girls don’t know Katara like she does. Katara doesn’t do hookups. There’s no way she would have gone upstairs hanging off of some frat boy unless—

She doesn’t stick around to ask the other girls for details. Suki shoves her way through the crowd, not giving two shits who’s drinks get spilled in the process. Her eyes are fixed on the stairs on the opposite side of the room. She needs to find Katara, now.

When she finally reaches the base of the stairs, Suki all but runs up. She stumbles slightly—fuck, she’s more drunk than she’d like to admit—but soon enough she makes it up. She throws open door after door, finding most empty, and her heart only pounds faster. Where did that sick fuck take her friend?

Finally, Suki runs to the end of the hall and finds Katara in a common room—with him.

He’s wearing a red sweater and jeans, shaggy hair falling across his face as he leans over Katara. Suki feels her blood boil.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing with my friend?” she spits, already marching over. He has two fucking seconds before she knocks his fucking lights out.

The boy looks up, and Suki stops. He looks worried, but not angry. Not the reaction Suki would have expected from someone being…interrupted.

Suki’s eyes further take in the scene, and her anger evaporates when she examines Katara. She’s not in any state of undress; in fact, there’s a fluffy red blanket wrapped around her and an ice pack resting on her ankle. The boy is still kneeling beside her, a bucket in one hand and a glass of water in the other. She notices the large scar across his face and bright, concerned eyes and blinks in surprise.

“What…” Suki trails off, confused. It almost looks like he’s…trying to help her.

“She tripped into me at the party,” he explains. “Her ankle looks sprained—I think she twisted it. She seems pretty drunk. Are you her friend?”

“Yes, I am,” Suki says, crossing her arms, still not entirely convinced of his intentions. “Does she know you? And is there any good reason why you dragged her up here alone?”

His eyes widen in horror. “What—no! No, I would never—I was hoping she’d sober up so she’d be safe heading home. How much has she had to drink?”

Suki’s brow wrinkles in confusion. What kind of accusation is that? Katara barely drinks! She’d been adamant about having only one cup of punch, and Suki surely would have noticed if she went back for more. Katara may be a notorious lightweight, but surely one drink wouldn’t get her this wasted, unless—

Holy shit! No! Suki’s blood runs cold. Some fucker had—

“What’s your name?” she demands.

The boy looks at her, confused. “I’m Zuko, I—”

“Alright, Zuko, do you mind telling me who my friend was hanging around with tonight?” she presses.

Zuko thinks for a moment before his eyes go wide. “She kind of just fell into me, but I saw Chan and Ruon-Jian watching her from across the room. Do you think they—”

“She only had one drink! Oh fuck, those fucking monsters—”

“She just threw up, and she’s having trouble staying awake,” Zuko says, panic creeping into his voice. “I thought she was just drunk and injured—fuck, we need to get her to the hospital!”

Suki nods vigorously. How would they do that though? She and Katara had walked from campus, and even then, Suki’s too drunk to trust herself driving with her incapacitated friend. From the looks of Zuko’s flushed cheeks and slightly slurred speech, she assumes he probably is, too.

“Hold on,” Zuko says, pulling out his phone. “My sister lives right down the street, and she doesn’t drink. I bet I can get her to drive us.”

Suki nods worriedly as Zuko paces across the room and holds his phone up to his ear. She turns her attention back to Katara.

“Hey, are you okay?” she asks gently, lifting Katara’s head.

Katara’s eyes twitch, but she doesn’t offer more than a soft moan in response. Suki’s heart breaks. Her poor friend…tonight was supposed to be fucking fun, and now this…. She looks back to where Zuko is on the phone across the room. How lucky that he happened to be there. Suki had her doubts—and hasn’t entirely parted with them—but he really has been nothing but honest and helpful. She holds Katara tighter and runs a soothing hand through her hair. Help will arrive soon.

“Azula, come on,” Zuko growls into his phone. “This isn’t a joke! She’s been roofied—yes! As soon as you can! Alright—thanks, Azula.”

He hangs up. “She’ll be out front in a few minutes. Let’s get Katara outside.”

Suki nods and does her best to shift Katara into a comfortable sitting position. Katara lets out a small noise and shivers. Rage bubbles inside Suki, but she pushes it away. Katara needs help right now. Later, she’d come back here and find out who Chan and Ruon-Jian are.

“Can you…?” Suki trails off. She hates to admit it, but Zuko is the better person to carry Katara. Suki could carry her over her shoulders, but that would be uncomfortable and those narrow fucking stairs would be a problem.

“Of course,” Zuko says instantly, kneeling down beside Katara. “Hey, Katara? Suki and me are taking you to the hospital. Is it alright if I lift you up?”

Katara gives the faintest noise of affirmation before Zuko kneels beside her again, pulling the blanket back around her shoulders before lifting her gently. He slowly gathers her against his chest, one arm under her knees and the other under her back. Suki feels her heart melt. He’s so gentle, and his concerned stare never leaves Katara.

“We can go out the back door, it will be less crowded,” Zuko explains. “It’s just down the hall to the left of the stairs.”

“Alright,” Suki says, hastily gathering up both hers and Katara’s purses. “Those stairs are pretty steep, I’ll go first.”

Zuko nods and follows along behind her. Suki navigates the steep, creaky steps to the best of her ability, frequently looking back to make sure Zuko isn’t slipping and that Katara is still safely held in his arms.

They’ve just reached the door when a voice from behind taunts, “Hey, where do you think you’re taking my girl?”

Suki whirls around and sees Zuko do the same. Her blood boils as she recognizes the same sleazy fucker she’d dragged Katara away from earlier. She’s ready to bash this fucker’s face—

Zuko beats her to it.

“You did this?” he snarls. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Chan just smirks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. She just seems drunk and flirty to me.”

He makes the mistake of stepping forward, allowing Zuko’s leg to snap out and strike him in the stomach. Chan doubles over, enraged.

“Hey, man, what’s your—”

Suki steps in and shoves him bodily to the floor, foot over his neck. “You’re going to fucking pay for this. You know what you fucking did!”

Once she’s sure he’s not going to follow them, Suki nods to Zuko, who readjusts Katara and hurries outside. She can still see the rage etched into his face and imagines she looks much the same.

“There!” Zuko shouts, nodding towards a sleek, black car parked out front. “That’s my sister.”

Suki wastes no time in opening the back door and sliding across, noticing a dark-haired girl watching her from the driver’s seat. The resemblance to Zuko is striking.

The boy in question is leaning down, carefully ducking Katara’s head as he helps her in the car. Suki helps pull her in, fastening the seat belt and holding Katara against her as Zuko climbs into the front seat.

“Shit, you really weren’t kidding, were you?” drawls Zuko’s sister.

“Do I ever?” he snaps. “Now come on! She needs help!”

“Whatever you say, Zuzu,” she says, shifting back into drive.

It’s a quick ride, but Suki can’t take her eyes off Katara. Her friend is trembling against her, desperately trying to open her eyes. Suki does her best to assure her that she’ll be fine, that they’re on their way to get help, but Katara still looks terrified.

Before she knows it, they’re pulling up in front of the hospital and she’s helping lift Katara back into Zuko’s arms.

Zuko thanks his sister once again before hurrying through the doors and frantically explaining the situation. Suki helps where she can, but it all comes out as a mess. They’re all freaked out and, admittedly, a bit drunk.

Once she’s confident that Katara is in good hands and Zuko is sitting beside her in the waiting room in a slightly less panicked state, Suki remembers Sokka and Toph with a start. Shit, she should probably tell Sokka about this.

Sokka’s going to lose his shit when he hears about this. Suki takes a deep breath and pulls her phone out, setting to work on a message that wouldn’t completely freak him out.

Hey Sokka, we aren’t at the party anymore. I’m at the ER with Katara (she’s fine, don’t worry).

She gets a notification back in less than a minute.

WHAT??? What happened??? On my way

Suki can’t help but smile at that. Her heart aches for what her friend just went through, but at least there are people to help.

She was drugged at the party. But don’t worry, nothing happened and the nurse says she’ll be fine

There’s no response after a couple minutes, and Suki assumes Sokka must be on his way. She takes another deep breath. Everything will be fine.

“Katara’s brother is on his way,” she tells Zuko, who had been staring at the floor next to her.

He perks up at that. “Oh, that’s good. I should…probably go. I don’t want to intrude.”

“Wait,” Suki says, putting a hand on his arm before he can get up and leave. “Thank you, Zuko. Thank you for everything. I mean it—if you hadn’t been there—”

Zuko nods solemnly. “I’m just glad she’s okay. I thought she just hurt her foot. I can’t fucking believe what those—”

He cuts himself off, face in his hands.

“But they didn’t,” Suki assures, putting a hand on his back. “You saw a hurt girl, and your first instinct was to look out for her and help her. That was…really good of you.”

He gives a small smile at that. “Will you let me know when she wakes up? I want to know she’s alright.”

“Of course. Here” —Suki opens her phone and hands it to Zuko— “put in your number, and I’ll text you when she’s out.”

Zuko nods and does what she asks before handing back the phone. “Thanks. I’ll head back now” —his eyes darken as he stands— “and I’ll make sure those creeps never do something like this again.”

Suki stares after him as he goes. Part of her is still in disbelief. He’d truly expected nothing in return for this. He…really did just want to see Katara safe and sound. Suki buries her face in her hands. She couldn’t believe how stupid she’d been, leaving a noticeably-intoxicated Katara alone after that fucking bastard had been moving in on her—

She shakes her head. Katara will be just fine. Sokka will be here soon.

That party was a terrible experience, but at least the good part of humanity showed itself, too.

—————

Katara can’t focus on anything.

It’s Sunday morning now, and at this point she’s lost her hope of finishing her assignments by tomorrow. Time doesn’t make sense anymore; she feels like she’s been trapped in some dense, horrified fog since she woke up in the hospital that night.

Looking back, it all seems like a blur in Katara’s mind. Suki and Sokka were there—Toph, too. Suki had been quick to assure her that nothing happened, that she and a boy from the party brought her safely to the ER.

That’s comforting at least, but Katara doesn’t remember anything. She remembers a sharp pain in her ankle and being held by strong arms, then…nothing. Anything could have happened in that time. It almost did. The only thing saving her was the kindness of a stranger, kindness she had no reason to expect from a random boy at a frat party. So much for a fun night.

Katara takes another deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart. It didn’t happen, that’s what’s important. She’s safe now. There’s nothing to show from that night besides a twisted ankle that would be fine after a couple weeks of icing.

She turns back to the article she’s supposed to be reading, but her mind feels numb. She’s tried everything. Breathing exercises, water, a snack, but nothing helps. She’d even put on an ankle boot and gone for a walk, but that only made her feel worse.

Ever since that night, Katara has found herself tensing up at every man’s stare in her direction. How many of them were staring at her just like those boys at the party had? How many of them would have whistled as she was dragged away, or dragged her away themselves? Katara has never considered herself naive—she knows the way people think—but being confronted with it so violently is another experience entirely. She’s never felt so vulnerable, naked, even when wearing her winter jacket.

Finally, she stands and limps her way back to the living room in hopes that Suki is there. Suki always seems to help.

The sound of a laugh track on the TV lets her know that indeed, Suki is sprawled out on the couch watching her sitcoms. Katara grabs a fresh ice pack from the freezer and makes her way towards her. This feels like a nice, mindless distraction.

“Oh hey!” Suki says as Katara plops down. “Finished with the paper?”

“No,” Katara sighs, propping up her foot. “I just—can’t really focus right now.”

“Don’t feel bad about that,” Suki says. “Katara, I’m so sor—”

“It isn’t your fault,” Katara says quickly. “You did everything you could, and I’m so glad you were there, Suki.”

Suki smiles and gives her hand a squeeze. “I’m always here for you. Want some shrimp puffs?”

Katara eagerly reaches into the offered bowl, and they eat in silence. It really does help take her mind off of things, but stupidly, the cheesy romance scenes keep bringing her back to one person.

Who’s the mystery boy? He very well could have saved her life, and she doesn’t even know his name.

“Suki?” Katara blurts out without thinking. “Do you still have that boy’s number?”

“Yeah, I do,” Suki replies in a neutral tone that Katara is grateful for. She’s not even sure what she wants.

“Could I have it? I thought—I don’t know, maybe I should thank him?” Katara mumbles, fiddling with her hair.

“Sure, here it is,” Suki says with a knowing smile as she unlocks her phone and hands it over. “His name’s Zuko. I’m sure he’d like to hear from you.”

Katara nods as she copies his contact. She sure hopes so. Her mind is clouded by the evil that exists in the world, but maybe it would help to focus on the good. Her dear friend sitting beside her already makes her feel some of the warmth returning to her. Maybe meeting her Prince Charming would help, too.

She takes a deep breath and sends him a text.

—————

When Katara arrives at her coffee shop of choice, she’s immediately approached by a young man in a red sweater who had been waiting outside.

“Katara?” he asks, reaching out a tentative hand.

“That’s me,” she says, giving his hand a gentle shake as she peers up at his face. “And you must be Zuko?”

“Yep, I am,” he says awkwardly. Katara notices the way he brushes his shaggy hair over the scar on the left side of his face, and she feels a pang of guilt. She doesn’t want him to think she’s staring.

“It’s nice to meet you. Well, properly meet you, anyways,” Katara corrects herself. It hardly counts as a first meeting if she didn’t remember his name or face. “Thank you again—for everything.”

“There’s no need to thank me. I did what any decent person would have.” He pauses, and Katara can tell by the way his eyes harden that he’s serious. If only more decent people existed. “Here, it’s a little cold out here.”

Zuko opens the door to the shop and gestures for her to step inside. She smiles as she does. He’s already living up to her best expectations.

Katara orders her standard black coffee, and hears Zuko ask for chai behind her. He tries to slip the cashier his card, but Katara shoos him away and insists on paying. She’d promised him it would be her treat.

Zuko’s a bit shy, but with a little prodding, Katara finds herself deep in conversation with him. She tells him about her family, how much she loves sailing and the ocean, the classes she’s taking. His attention never wavers, not even when she’s rambling about the wild sea star facts her marine biology professor had been talking about in the last lecture.

In turn, she learns about Zuko. How he has a complicated relationship with his family, but loves his Uncle dearly and still hangs around with his sister and her friends from time to time. She finds out he shares her love for the beach, and sometimes he goes there to sketch. Katara watches his eyes as he speaks; they’re a beautiful gold, and they seem to sparkle whenever he’s excited about something.

Most of all, Katara loves the way he looks at her. Zuko’s eyes remain bright and attentive, not just hearing her, but listening. He looks at her like she’s human, not just a body he’s waiting to drag away and use at the end of the date.

“Zuko,” she finally says after their cups have been empty for over half an hour, fearing this meeting will end soon. “I’ve really loved talking to you. Do you want to meet again, soon? Maybe…for dinner?”

He seems surprised by that. “Oh! Uh…sure, I’d like that.”

Katara feels her gut clench. Zuko seems…nervous. Does he still want to see her? Was this all just out of pity? “It’s okay…. You don’t have to. I just…like being around you I guess. And” —she looks up at him with a sad smile— “I do kind of owe you for saving me.”

“Katara, I…” he swallows and looks down. “I don’t want you to feel like you owe me anything. I didn’t do that because I was expecting something in return, okay? I…I was just scared for you. I wanted to make sure you were safe. I wasn’t—”

“Zuko,” Katara cuts him off, placing one of her hands over his. “I know. And that’s why I want to get to know you better. You could have taken advantage of me like those other guys tried to. You could have turned your back and left me. But you didn’t. I…I think I would really love having someone like you in my life.”

She feels herself tearing up as she finishes. It’s all true. Zuko never made her feel like she owed him anything—he’d even tried to buy her coffee. Katara’s been with exes who expected her touch in exchange for any display of kindness, sex as payment for a nice dinner. But the boy in front of her…he’s saved her from her worst nightmare, and here he is worrying he’s pressuring her by going on a date.

A tear trickles down her cheek, and Katara tries to wipe it away before Zuko sees. This isn’t something to cry over, what’s he going to think—

“Katara, it’s alright,” he says, clasping one of her hands between his. “I loved talking to you, too. You’re such a talented and kind person—I’d be honored to stick around if you want me.”

“Of course I want you,” she says. Katara swears she sees his eyes grow misty too, as if that’s something he never expected to hear. But she means it—he’s everything she imagined him to be, and more. She never wants to let those warm hands—soothingly stroking her own—get away.

When the time comes to leave, Zuko scoops up the two empty cups and helps Katara to her feet, careful of the heavy boot on her injured ankle.

“So, dinner soon, right?” she confirms as he throws away the cups.

“Of course,” he says with a warm smile. “But this time, it’s my treat.”

“Alright, fine,” Katara says with a smile as Zuko once again props the door open for her.

She turns in the direction of the bus stop, but pauses.

“Hey, Zuko?” she asks tentatively.

“Hm?”

“One last thing.”

Katara leans forward and wraps her arms around his shoulders. She feels his arms gently circle her waist, catching her perfectly. Zuko feels so warm and safe against her, from his strong yet soft hold to the ghost of his breath by her ear. It’s almost like the way he embraced her the night they first met, the embrace that shielded her from bad intentions and carried her to safety.

It’s the perfect embrace, and Katara never wants to leave it.