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.

Chapter Text

Despite the cold air, Zuko still feels warm as he makes his way back home. He can still feel Katara’s gentle embrace and he can still picture her warm smile. It was the first time he’d seen her after…that night. Zuko still gets chills thinking about how scared and out-of-it she was, but today she seemed comfortable. Happy. Zuko is already mulling over his options for the dinner he’d promised her; he wants it to be something special. He’d do anything to make sure she felt safe and appreciated by him every day.

Calling in a favor with Uncle is always an option. Zuko’s only concern is that Uncle might go…overboard if he knows it’s a date. Dates aren’t really something Zuko does a lot. In fact, he hasn’t ever had a second date. And…it really is a second date. This morning could have been brushed off as a grateful friend, but even Zuko knows Katara’s invitation to dinner was more than that. Especially when he’d offered to pay and she accepted.

Zuko smiles to himself, something he rarely does. He’d been so hesitant to let himself feel like this in the past; usually when someone flirts with him, it’s a joke. But not Katara. She’d been so genuine when she spoke to him and pulled him into a hug, and a few minutes later he already misses her. He misses the light in her eyes when she talks about what she’s passionate about, the sly smirk she makes when she cracks a joke.

He’s used to talking to ambitious students—the business school is full of them—but Katara is different. She knows what she wants, she’s set on it…but it all comes from a desire to help. Zuko can tell by the confidence with which she speaks that she means it. Katara loves the ocean and the life that inhabits it, and she’s even more passionate about using her knowledge to support communities like the small, coastal town she’d grown up in. Zuko could listen to her talk all day. He loves the cadence of her voice and the wealth of information she shares. Even just thinking about Katara makes his heart flutter in adoration.

Zuko had gone into college expecting to be perpetually miserable, but for once, he isn’t.

His mood only sours when he approaches his frat house, reminded of what had taken place there. Chan at least had been written up and temporarily expelled from the house—not nearly enough to pay for what he’d done, in Zuko’s opinion—but Ruon-Jian is still walking around as if nothing had happened. He’s walking around without a care in the world, and nobody else seems to have a problem with it. They range from nonchalant to openly hostile towards Zuko, as if he was in the wrong that night.

Zuko’s face is already set back into his standard scowl by the time he enters through the back door. He sighs and moves to take off his coat when he feels a hand clap him on the back. He looks up to see Tam smiling casually. Zuko breathes a sigh of relief. The guy might be huge but he’s one of the only ones in the house that’s still friendly towards Zuko.

“Hey, man,” Tam says. “They’re about to play some darts in the other room, want to join?”

Zuko really wants to say no—he’s been avoiding them like the plague since that party—but it would look even worse on his part to refuse any social engagement with his brothers. Whatever. He has to see those assholes at some point, and at least it will be satisfying to kick their asses at darts. Hopefully he’ll be able to control himself with sharp objects in hand.

“Sure,” Zuko says unenthusiastically.

“Great!” Tam replies obliviously, already putting his arm around Zuko’s shoulders and steering him towards the common room. “I haven’t seen you out a lot lately, you must be busy.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Zuko mutters. Fuck, this is probably a bad idea. Tam isn’t even trying to piss him off and Zuko already feels on edge.

It’s worse when they enter the room and all heads turn towards him, a mixture of anger and smugness on their faces. They’re like a den of fucking hyenas.

“Hey Tam, what the fuck is loverboy doing here?” Ruon-Jian mocks.

Zuko scowls. He’d like nothing more to punch that cheeky fucking bastard square in the jaw, but he can only imagine how much getting kicked out of the frat would piss off Ozai. He’s a legacy here; getting kicked out would be on the same level as being expelled from the university in his eyes.

“He just got home,” Tam says cheerfully. “I thought he’d like to join, too.”

Ruon-Jian scowls right back at Zuko, but neither he nor anyone else in the room seems inclined to argue with Tam.

“Fine,” he scoffs. “Just be careful, Scarface. It would really suck for you if your only good eye got taken out by a dart.”

“You must be a shitty throw if you’re afraid of missing the board by that much,” Zuko shoots back. He feels his lip curl instinctively at the use of the name and the implicit threat. It certainly isn’t the first time he’s been called that, but the accompanying snickers do nothing to settle his temper.

“I guess we’ll have to see,” Ruon-Jian says with a smirk. “Let’s see how well your depth perception holds up. Isn’t it difficult for you, with your fucked-up eye and all?”

“Never stopped me before,” Zuko snaps. He grabs a beer from the table and cracks it open, taking a long drink before snatching the dart from Ruon-Jian’s hand. He’ll show this bastard.

Zuko takes his position and throws the dart, but he knows it’s going to be a miss from the moment it leaves his hand. Fuck, he was too aggressive with it. Mai always used to get after him for that; he should be calm when taking aim. Too bad that isn’t the easiest state of mind for Zuko at the moment.

He scowls at his dart; it landed towards the middle of the board on the 7.

Ruon-Jian laughs beside him as he takes a swig of his own beer. “Great shot there, Scarface. Too bad your little girlfriend isn’t here to see that.”

Zuko’s lip curls in disgust as Ruon-Jian pushes past him to throw his own dart. His fists clench at his sides, and it’s everything he can do to restrain himself. The bastard still thinks it’s fucking funny.

Ruon-Jian’s throw is sloppy, but he still manages to beat Zuko. He turns around with a triumphant smirk, which Zuko glowers at. He still has two more chances.

Tam is next up, and he somehow manages to miss the board entirely. Zuko winces with the force of the thunk as the dart embeds itself firmly in the wall, adding to the array of similarly sized holes already present there.

A few more brothers take a shot, none particularly impressive other than one that landed nearly on the bullseye. Zuko can tell that some of them are fairly deep in the drink.

Finally, it’s Zuko’s turn again.

He takes a deep breath and thinks back to the many times he’d played this game with Azula and her friends. Mai had been the best he’d ever seen, and Zuko shifts himself into the sideways position he remembers her favoring. According to Mai, the key is keeping a steady grip—firm, but not too tight. Zuko slowly draws his arm back and throws, doing his best to hold steady.

It isn’t the bullseye he was aiming for, but Zuko manages to strike the triple point zone on the 18. Not bad. He straightens with a slight smirk as Tam claps his hands. Ruon-Jian is quick to shove Zuko aside by the shoulder, moving to take his own shot.

“Lucky shot, Loverboy,” he sneers. “Doubt it will be enough to recover from that shitty first shot of yours, but I’d like to see you try.”

Ruon-Jian’s cockiness visibly falters as he flubs his next shot, giving Zuko a rush of childish satisfaction. It might just be an impromptu game of drunken darts, but Zuko will take any chance he can get to humiliate this fucker without broken bones being involved.

Zuko watches a series of unremarkable shots. A couple miss the board entirely and hit the wall. Tam just barely makes the board; the force of his throw nearly makes the thing shake. The best shot besides Zuko’s lands in the 14, just outside the bullseye. Nobody but Ruon-Jian seems particularly bothered by this; most of the brothers are content to clap each other on the back and down their beers after they carelessly cast their darts.

Ruon-Jian holds up his hand as Zuko approaches the board again. “First goes last, remember? You’re going to have to wait a couple minutes before you declare yourself the loser.”

Zuko’s already sure he can’t possibly lose if the fresh set of holes in the wall are anything to judge by, but the only person he really cares about beating is the one standing before him with a mocking sneer.

“You’re on,” Zuko growls. At least this way, he’ll know where to set his expectations.

Ruon-Jian smirks and flips aside his hair before sidling up to the board and taking aim. His form is sloppy, but somehow…fuck.

The dart lands on the edge of the bullseye, just barely making it in. Ruon-Jian appears surprised at first, but quickly recovers, laughing as he turns around.

“You don’t have to throw again, you know,” he gloats to Zuko. “You know you can’t beat that and it would be less humiliating for you to just give it up now.”

Zuko glares at him as he passes. He’s never been one to back down, especially not at a time like this. All eyes are on him after days of subtle hostility, and he fully intends to use the attention to set the record straight.

Taking his place by the board, Zuko imagines Mai winding back her arm, the rare hint of a smirk teasing her lips as she aims her perfect throw. Calm, careful, precise. It’s not about brute force, she’d said—the most powerful throws come from perfect timing.

Zuko lines up his dart with the board and his eyes, mapping out the path. There are jeers and whistles behind him, but Zuko tunes them out. He breathes in and throws.

His movement is steady and smooth, his wrist snapping with perfect timing. Zuko watches as the dart slams into the dead center of the board with so much force that Ruon-Jian’s is dislodged and clatters pitifully to the ground.

Zuko turns around, grinning in victory. There’s no need to count the points to know that he’d won. The good feeling leaves him when he turns back to Ruon-Jian and his cronies and finds the same dark jealousy he’d seen in their eyes when they tried to put their hands on Katara. Zuko is reminded of the underlying conflict hanging in the air and it makes him seethe.

Some of the brothers drunkenly cheer him on, but Ruon-Jian silences them.

“Shut up!” he snarls, turning on Zuko. “What is your deal? You must think you’re some kind of fucking hero or something!”

Zuko crosses his arms and scowls. He will not be intimidated by a fucking bastard like this. “It was just a game. What’s your deal?”

Ruon-Jian stomps up to Zuko, pointing an accusatory finger into his chest. “Why don’t you fuck off and go be a self-righteous fucking loser somewhere else! You really think you’re better than me, don’t you?”

“So what if I do?” Zuko growls, still refusing to back down. “You set the bar on the fucking floor last week!”

Ruon-Jian laughs bitterly. “Why is that Water Tribe whore so fucking important to you? What, do you think you saved her or something?”

“I think I did,” Zuko spits, clenching his fists at his sides.

“You only saved her from a good time!” Ruon-Jian nearly shouts, jabbing his finger into Zuko’s chest again. “Don’t even pretend you weren’t thinking the same thing. You probably thought playing the savior would get you laid, didn’t you?”

“No, because I’m not a fucking rapist,” Zuko snarls, finally shoving Ruon-Jian’s encroaching hand away.

His dark eyes narrow into a scowl at the word. “What the fuck did you just say, Scarface?”

“You heard me,” Zuko seethes, once again ignoring the nickname. This bastard isn’t even fucking creative enough to come up with something he cares about. “What’s the matter? Are you so much of a pathetic fucking coward you won’t even admit what you were trying to do?”

“Don’t try to fucking moralize this!” Ruon-Jian shouts, getting back in Zuko’s face. “She came to a party to get drunk dressed like that. You’re just mad I claimed her first and wanted your way instead! I heard you’ve been out to see the bitch again, and probably fucked her too! Look, I get your ugly fucking face doesn’t do you any favors, but you have no right to—”

Zuko tunes out halfway through the rant. He’s absolutely fuming as he listens to this fucking disgusting excuse for a human being prattle on. Before he realizes it’s even him doing it, Zuko finds himself lunging forward. His palms connect hard with Ruon-Jian’s chest, and before he knows it, the fucker is on the ground.

Still breathing heavily, Zuko stares down in fury at Ruon-Jian, who is now lying dazed in the middle of a freshly-broken folding table, beer and plastic cups spilled everywhere. Zuko feels a hint of hesitation—he’s definitely getting in trouble for this—but he can’t bring himself to regret it.

“Her name is Katara, and she’s a fucking human being,” Zuko seethes. “Don’t you ever talk about her—or anyone else—like you fucking own them, you rapist piece of fucking trash!”

Ruon-Jian scowls and wipes the beer off his face with his fist. He makes no move to stand. “Fucking whatever, man! I’m getting your ugly fucking ass kicked out of here! I don’t care how rich your daddy is!”

“Go ahead and do it!” Zuko spits before turning on his heel and leaving before he digs himself even deeper.

Nobody else says a word as Zuko storms out of the room. He can feel their eyes on him and wonders what they’re thinking, but he realizes he doesn’t care. Maybe it’s better he doesn’t know, or else it would tempt him to smash them through some more flimsy folding tables.

Zuko settles for slamming the door to his room instead. He flops down on his bed, closing his eyes in exasperation. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

He might not regret a single thing he said—or did—but Zuko knows it will change nothing. If Ruon-Jian isn’t kicked out of the frat yet, he probably won’t be at all. Of course not. And Zuko had to go screw himself in the meantime.

No, that’s not right—it isn’t about him, not really. The fact that Ruon-Jian thought that was a remotely acceptable way to talk about Katara makes Zuko see red. Katara—smart, funny, passionately kind Katara—and he’d treated her like some fucking conquest while his buddies laughed along. None of them even knew her name, let alone everything she stands for. They don’t know how beautiful she looks when she laughs, how deeply she cares for her work, how kind she is to everyone around her, even strangers—

Zuko wants to scream. Even if those monsters did know Katara for who she is, it might not even matter. They wanted to take someone bright and beautiful and break her. They would only pretend to value any of the things that make her precious if they could own her. Zuko’s stomach turns at the thought—it makes him sick to even consider thinking of another person that way, but his time here has destroyed his naïvety.

The soft buzz from his phone breaks him out of his thoughts. Zuko reaches towards the nightstand and he suddenly feels lighter when he sees the name on the screen.

Katara.

He quickly sits up and takes a look at his phone. Though Zuko wouldn’t fault Katara in the slightest for wanting nothing to do with him or this house ever again, he feels thrilled whenever she wants to spend time around him. Zuko knows he’s a bit of a downer to be around and came to accept he may never find someone who wants him, but Katara makes him believe that’s possible.

Katara: Hey! I had a great time today so I’m holding you to that dinner offer, have anywhere in mind?

Zuko smiles down at his screen. He thinks a moment, then decides he knows one sure way to guarantee a special evening.

Zuko: Love to. Friday at Jasmine Dragon ok?

Katara: Wow that’s very nice of you! I’m fine with something less fancy too tho, I know it’s expensive

Zuko smiles to himself. He’s not usually one to pull strings, but he doesn’t feel guilty at all doing it for her.

Zuko: Actually my uncle owns it so don’t worry about costs. If you want to go somewhere else that’s fine too

Katara: Oh no I’d love to! That would be amazing :)

Zuko: Perfect, you deserve it :)

Zuko: 6:00 on Friday?

Katara: It’s a date! See you then <3

Zuko smiles as he sets his phone back down, still thinking about that little heart emoji. He can’t wait to see her again. The anger is still pulsing in his chest, but Zuko feels himself calming down. He’s angry for Katara and that anyone could want to harm her, but he’s better off focusing on the future. Right now, the best thing to do is make Friday night as special as possible for Katara.

Zuko stretches and picks up his phone again, quickly dialing Uncle’s number.

“Hey Uncle, it’s me. Do you have a table for two open this Friday?”

—————

It’s finally 4:00 pm on Friday, and Zuko is already in front of the mirror, preparing himself for the first official date he’s had in years.

Needless to say, Zuko is excited about tonight, already getting ancy an hour and a half before he needs to leave to pick up Katara. Uncle had been thrilled to arrange a reservation for him, and even insisted that Zuko wouldn’t be paying a single coin for it. Part of Zuko worries that Uncle’s enthusiasm might scare off Katara, but he’s still confident about tonight. Zuko used to hate it, but Uncle does always seem to know how to make a special moment.

It’s early, but Zuko is already starting to get himself ready. He’s just showered, and he’s doing his best to style his wet hair with the comb. Appearances aren’t something Zuko usually thinks too much about; generally he just focuses on arranging his hair to fall naturally across the left side of his face, making his scar less noticeable. It isn’t something he’s ashamed of, but warding off the unwanted stares is a comfort.

But tonight is different…tonight he’s dressing for someone. And he wants that someone to feel as special as she makes him feel.

Zuko finishes with his hair and scrutinizes his chin; the stubble there is barely noticeable but he shaves it anyway. He notices that one of his nails is slightly jagged from where he’d been chewing it, and a few others are long enough to have dirt stuck underneath them. Normally he wouldn’t think twice, but he can’t take Katara out and hold her hand like this. Zuko quickly trims down his nails, carefully forming them into short, smooth crescents.

When he finishes, he wraps his towel around his waist and heads back to his room. He’s gone back to his routine of avoiding common areas as much as he can. If things were tense between Zuko and the rest of the frat before, it’s even worse now.

Zuko doesn’t care though. He shuts his door behind him, grateful for the privacy. It’s not like he really wants any part of their company after what he’d seen, anyway.

A moment after Zuko has pulled on a clean pair of gray slacks, he hears a knock at his door. He opens it with a sigh, surprised to see Jee, the House Director standing in front of him.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Sozin,” he says in a formal tone that immediately tells Zuko he’s in trouble. “Mind if I talk to you for a few minutes?”

“Sure,” Zuko says carefully, gesturing for Jee to come in.

Jee sighs and shakes his head like a disappointed parent. “Look, kid…I know you’re having problems with some of the brothers right now, but that is our job to handle, not yours. Understand?”

“You weren’t there,” Zuko snaps without thinking. “He admitted it! They said that she…she…”

Zuko breaks off, unable to repeat any of that filth out loud. Jee holds up a hand before he’s able to finish. “It doesn’t matter. You already reported the incident to me, and it’s up to the authorities now. Nothing can be done without proper evidence.”

“Evidence?” Zuko growls. “She was fucking drugged and they both moved in on her! And Ruon-Jian admitted it!”

Jee sighs and shakes his head. “Look, I’m sorry we have to do things this way. You don’t have to like it. You just need to let the authorities handle it and stop involving yourself. I came here to warn you that you’ll be expelled from the fraternity if you cause any more fights. Is that clear?”

“Yes,” Zuko says shortly, realizing he’s getting nowhere. He scowls and crosses his arms, making it perfectly clear to Jee how unacceptable he finds this.

“Thank you for understanding, Mr. Sozin,” Jee says with a tired sigh before exiting and closing the door.

Zuko scowls at the door after Jee leaves. He wonders if Ruon-Jian is also being threatened with expulsion. He knows the university put on an optional seminar about sexual assault, but from what he’s seen the brothers either ignored it or treated it like some fucking joke. It makes him sick to listen to them carry on, knowing it’s Katara and the terror she’d felt that night they’re joking about. Katara and so many other girls who might have not been able to get away.

He’s still stewing on it as he aimlessly rifles through his closet, looking for a shirt to put on. A dark blue one catches his eye. Blue, Katara’s favorite color. Perfect for tonight. Zuko pulls it around his shoulders and does up the buttons, adjusting the collar just right. Formal, but not too formal. Zuko checks himself in the mirror. He’s no expert, but he figures he looks presentable. Uncle would be proud of him for at least putting in the effort.

Zuko looks at the time. 4:53 pm. Still too early to leave.

He settles for sitting down on his bed, absently scrolling through his social media feed. He smiles to himself when he comes across pictures of seabirds and coral reefs, remembering it’s an account that Katara had recommended.

Finally, Zuko checks the time again and decides it’s not too early to leave. He grabs his jacket and the blue, scented candle he’d picked up for Katara, and heads for the door. He decides to leave through the back, again wanting to minimize attention towards himself. There should be a party tonight, but the frat is restricted for the rest of the month after the incident. It gives Zuko a vague sense of satisfaction, but most of the brothers treat him like some kind of prudish buzzkill now. Whatever. He’d rather be a prudish buzzkill than the same kind of monster that they are.

Zuko steps outside and closes the door behind him, thinking of it as sealing all those problems inside. He has better things to think about now.

—————

It’s 5:36 pm when Zuko finally knocks on the door to Katara’s townhouse, smiling to himself as he hears the clatter of feet hurrying towards the door inside.

The door opens, and he’s greeted by Katara’s roommate—Suki, that’s her name.

“Hi!” she exclaims, gesturing for Zuko to come in. “Katara’s almost ready.”

“Sorry!” Katara’s voice calls from down the hallway.

“She’s been excited to see you all day,” Suki says with a smile. “I’m sure she’ll be out soon.”

Zuko flushes when he realizes he’s here nearly ten minutes early. Fuck, now Katara is stressing because of him. He opens his mouth to apologize but feels himself stop short when Katara finally appears.

She’s beautiful.

The dress she’s wearing looks almost like it’s made of waves, cascading down from her shoulders to her knees. She’s wearing earrings that sparkle whenever they catch the light as she moves, and the familiar carved stone pendant around her neck.

Katara smiles at him awkwardly and fusses with her hair, and Zuko tries to think of something to say, realizing he’s staring.

“Sorry!” Katara repeats, beating him to it. “Shit, I’m really running late today! Didn’t even have time to straighten my hair…”

Zuko gently catches her hand as she walks up to him. “I think your hair looks beautiful, Katara.”

He means it. Her dark brown curls fall around her shoulders beautifully, and Zuko would be happy running his hands through it all day if Katara would allow him. He can’t imagine why she’d want to straighten it, but he doesn’t say that.

Zuko sees her pause and adds, “I think all of you looks beautiful.”

Katara blinks, and the warmest smile lights her face as she steps forward to give him a quick hug. “You’re looking pretty handsome yourself.”

Zuko chuckles to himself and shakes his head instinctively, although for the first time since his scarring, he allows himself to believe she might actually mean it.

“What is it?” Katara asks, frowning slightly at him.

“It’s nothing. Just happy to be here,” Zuko assures her. There’s still a hint of tension, so Zuko smiles awkwardly and holds up the candle in his hands. “I…uh…brought you this. It’s supposed to smell like an ocean breeze.”

“Oh!” Katara’s eyes light up as she takes the little blue candle from him and immediately gives it a sniff. “Thanks, Zuko! I love it! These are always so nice to take a bath with.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Zuko says as he watches her carefully set it down on the living room table.

“Of course I do,” Katara says, pulling him into another hug and ruffling his hair. “That was very sweet of you.”

Normally Zuko would be annoyed at someone messing with his carefully-arranged hair, but her fingers feel divine brushing against his scalp. He feels himself flush again, embarrassed by the reminder of how touch-starved he really is.

Suki clears her throat from across the room, and Zuko flushes at the reminder she’s been here this entire time.

Katara steps back with a nervous chuckle. Zuko doesn’t miss the annoyed look she shoots Suki. “Well…I guess we should get going. I don’t want to keep your uncle waiting!”

“Have fun tonight!” Suki says with an encouraging pat on Katara’s shoulder.

“I already know I will,” Katara replies, but she’s not looking at Suki anymore. She’s staring up at Zuko with a warm smile as she hugs his arm and begins steering him towards the door.

Zuko waves a final goodbye to Suki before Katara all but pulls him out the door.

“Sorry for being late again,” she murmurs as they make their way down to the car. “I wanted to make sure everything was perfect.”

“Well, I think you did a great job,” Zuko assures her as he opens the passenger door for her. “I feel lucky that you’re even looking at me.”

Katara rolls her eyes as he settles into the driver’s seat. “Of course I’m looking at the boy who’s taking me out to the Jasmine Dragon.”

Zuko laughs to himself as he starts the car and carefully backs into the street. It’s the least he could do for her.

It’s a pretty quick drive to the restaurant. Zuko notes with pride that Katara seems to notice the cleanliness of the car; he’d carefully vacuumed it out this morning. He’d also scrubbed down the hood after someone mysteriously seemed to throw up across it every night. Bastards. This car was a gift from Uncle and Zuko does his best to take care of it.

Zuko smiles when he spots the man in question waving from the entryway of the Jasmine Dragon as he pulls in.

The valets are on him in an instant, and Zuko hands off his keys before moving to stand awkwardly next to Katara as Uncle approaches.

“Nephew! I’m so glad you could visit this evening,” he exclaims, wasting no time in rushing over to squeeze Zuko into a hug. He turns to Katara with a smile. “And this must be the beautiful lady you’ve been seeing!”

“Nice to meet you, I’m Katara,” she says next to Zuko as he grins nervously. He is not used to this kind of attention at all and doesn’t know whether to embrace it or run and hide. Katara seems happy enough though, so Zuko decides he is too.

“It’s an honor to meet you,” Uncle says with a bow of his head. “Here, take this” —he pulls out a white rose and ticks it behind Katara’s ear— “Aunt Wu brought them in today. Fresh from her greenhouse garden!”

She’s beautiful as she smiles and thanks Uncle, adjusting the flower in her flowing, dark hair. Zuko is so distracted he startles when Uncle begins messing with his shirt, where he finds a matching rose pinned a moment later.

“Uncle…” Zuko tries to scold, but Katara’s giggle cuts him off.

“I think it looks nice on you,” she says, lightly touching the rose with her hand. “Your uncle has great taste.”

Uncle nods his head at that with a wink. “I hope my tea and cuisine live up to your expectations! Right this way; I’ve set aside a special table for you two.”

Zuko feels a flash of embarrassment at the attention—he really doesn’t like being fussed over like this—but he relaxes when he sees Katara’s happy expression. The night has hardly begun and she already seems to be enjoying herself. Maybe Zuko should too; who cares who’s watching when Uncle’s antics have brought such a radiant smile to Katara’s face?

Sure enough, Uncle leads them to the table that Zuko knows is usually reserved for special events. It’s toward the back of the restaurant, right next to an elaborate fountain with koi fish lazily swimming about.

Katara’s face brightens when she sees the fish, and Zuko can’t help but think about how fitting it is for her love of the ocean and its wildlife.

“Wow…you have a beautiful restaurant,” she tells Uncle as Zuko slides her chair out for her.

“I set it aside just for you,” he replies with a bow. “A beautiful table for a beautiful girl! I’ll be right back with the menu.”

Zuko feels his cheeks heat, and notices a matching blush on Katara’s face as she smiles up at him. He takes his place across the table from her. There’s a slight silence that hangs between them as Katara looks back towards the gently flowing water of the fountain and the intricate pattern of swirling koi.

“My sister and I used to have our birthdays here,” Zuko finally says with a fond smile as he reflects on some of the precious few childhood memories he has. “Our mom would give us little shrimp to feed the fish.”

“That sounds like something my mom would have done, too,” Katara says with a pensive sigh that feels all too familiar to Zuko.

He swallows. “Your mom, is she…?”

“Yes,” Katara says, closing her eyes. “I was eight.”

Zuko’s heart clenches, and he finds himself reaching across the table to touch her hand without thinking. “I’m sorry. Mine too…I was ten.”

Katara looks back up, smiling sadly at him but saying nothing. There’s nothing to say, only a silent conversation, an understanding that only two people who have felt loss like that can understand. No words are spoken, but Zuko feels comforted by the emotion in her kind blue eyes.

By the time Uncle returns, they’re both wiping at their eyes as discreetly as possible with their napkins.

“Here you are,” he says with a warm smile as he sets menus down in front of them. Zuko notices a hint of mischief in his eyes. “If you would like to try one of the special cocktails, I’m sure the bartender could be persuaded.”

Katara laughs at that. “Well, I think the Sea Dragon sounds good, if the bartender would be alright with that. Don’t worry, though; I won’t get you into trouble. My rule has always been just one drink.”

“I’ll try the Cinnamon Sunset,” Zuko asks, following her lead, though he doesn’t miss her smile falter slightly as she finishes speaking.

His breath catches when the meaning sinks in. Just one drink, the same rule Katara had followed that night. The rule that made her friend Suki realize she’d been—

Fuck. There’s a different kind of pain in Katara’s eyes now; pain from a fresh wound rather than an old one. How could the world be so cruel to put such a lovely person through so much? Zuko aches to hold her in his arms forever and never let anything hurt her again.

“Excellent choices! I’ll have those right out for you,” Uncle says with a nod before turning away.

“Wait!” Zuko finds himself calling out. He feels his cheeks color slightly at the request he hasn’t made since he was a child. “Could I—could we…get some little shrimp for the koi?”

Uncle beams, a genuine smile that tells Zuko he remembers exactly what he means. “Of course, my nephew.”

Katara’s eyes look misty when Zuko turns back to her. He gives her hand another small squeeze.

“I thought it would be nice,” he says quietly. “So we can remember them the way we want to.”

“I like that idea,” Katara says. “Do you do this a lot?”

“No,” Zuko answers honestly, suddenly wondering why he doesn’t. “No, it’s been years since I’ve come here.”

Somehow it always felt like some kind of self pity to him. Relying on his Uncle for support like the leech his father had always accused him of being when he should be looking after himself.

“Oh,” Katara says. This seems to surprise her. “Well, your uncle seems really happy that you’re here. He must love you very much.”

Zuko opens his mouth to respond, but Uncle appears with their drinks and carefully sets them down before he has the chance.

“The Sea Dragon for the lovely lady,” he says with a smile as he hands a blue-tinted drink garnished with seaweed to Katara. “And the Cinnamon Sunrise for you. I’ll be right back with some appetizers. House special.”

He gives Zuko a warm smile and a wink before turning away, and Zuko can’t help but smile after him. Uncle really does love him. And maybe love doesn’t need a motive or reason; it just is, pure and unconditional and beautiful. Being here—being loved—doesn’t make him a freeloader like Ozai would have him believe. Love has been something that’s been hard for Zuko to accept, but maybe…maybe it’s time he does. Katara said something he hadn’t thought about; Zuko visiting is something that makes Uncle happy, too. It was once an unfathomable idea to Zuko that anyone could find joy in his simple presence, but…

Zuko finds that he’s looking at Katara across the table, smiling at him as she takes a sip of her drink. Her eyes sparkle in the way that makes something inside of him melt for her, and Zuko thinks he might understand. Katara is a light. Zuko doesn’t want to say he loves her just yet—he still hardly knows her—but he can’t think of another way to describe the feeling. He wishes he could listen to her laugh all day. He finds himself listening carefully whenever she speaks, even if he has no idea what she’s talking about—if it’s important to her, it automatically feels important to him. He wants to hold her and make her feel safe. Zuko can’t remember feeling this way before, and the realization that love is about giving more than it is taking makes him smile. He’d give Katara the world if he could.

“How’s your drink?” she asks him suddenly.

“Oh!” Zuko says, admittedly startled. He feels his cheeks heat at the realization he’d been internally gushing about the person sitting right in front of him. Since when did he get so sappy? “It’s…good. Sweet and a little spicy.”

“Mine too. Your uncle really knows what he’s doing,” Katara says. She takes another sip, but something sad comes over her eyes as she stares blankly down at the table.

Zuko feels something inside him twist with concern. “Are you alright, Katara?”

“Me? Just fine,” she says, no hint of a lie in her voice but a haunted look still in her eyes. She shakes it away and laughs humorlessly to herself as she swirls her drink. “You know…this is the first drink I’ve had since that night.”

Oh. “Katara…”

“It’s fine, Zuko. I just mean I trust you. I’m so happy you’re here with me.” She gives him another warm smile and holds up her drink to toast him. “I just want to have a great night with you.”

The night is great, both because of excellent company and excellent surroundings. Uncle clearly outdid himself setting things up for them. Zuko can’t help but notice the special appetizer is a spiced arctic crab cake, a perfect fusion of Water Tribe and Fire Nation cuisine. It helps Zuko and Katara discover their shared love of seafood, not without some jokes about her choice of profession on his part. He finds it easy to laugh at himself when he’s teased right back about eating food so spicy it must have numbed his taste buds by now.

They feed the fish together, giggling as they swarm together around each little shrimp tossed into the fountain with eager mouths fighting to grab it up. Zuko feels like a child again, but in the best way possible. He doesn’t often take the time for simple joys.

With each new conversation, Zuko feels like he knows Katara better and better. Her eyes light up when she sees Southern Water Tribe inspired dishes on the menu, and joyfully recounts memories from her childhood visiting her Gran Gran there. She gets a misty, fond look in her eyes when her mother comes up, and Zuko finds himself subconsciously drifting towards her, squeezing her hand, nudging her foot with his under the table—any amount of comfort his touch can give.

In turn, she prompts Zuko to share stories from his own childhood. He tells her about moving to the city for the first time due to his father’s career, and the afternoons he spent with his mom and Azula as they’d explored the city. Zuko blushes when he receives his own comforting touches from Katara. Her sympathetic smile accompanies the touch of her soft hands against his forearms when he grimaces at the mention of his father, or sadly tells her how he isn’t all that close with his sister any longer, like they were as kids.

Zuko also finds himself wanting to meet Katara’s family; from how she talks about them, he can tell she cares deeply for them all. She complains about her brother’s antics, but it’s always with a fond laugh and playful roll of her eyes. She also thinks highly of his girlfriend, Suki. Zuko jumps at the opportunity to get to know them both better when Katara casually mentions inviting him for game night. She smirks and warns him that Sokka and Suki can get quite competitive, to which Zuko rolls his eyes and reminds her that he lives in a frat. He might hate it, but he’s no stranger to alcohol-fueled aggression when it comes to party games.

All night, it’s the little things he notices. Katara praises Uncle’s homemade tea blends, and Zuko knows that’s the surest way to the old man’s heart. She looks so happy when she tastes food that reminds her of home, but loves the added flavor the blends of Fire Nation spices give it. Katara insists that Zuko try one of her seaweed puffs, and feels himself blush when she pops it straight into his mouth with a giggle. He sets aside a bit of his boarqupine udon for her, smiling with pride when Katara loves the flavor. He tells her it’s his mother’s recipe, and Uncle had even taught him how to cook it a few years ago. Katara insists he teach her, and Zuko can’t get over the feeling that she keeps making excuses to see him. She likes being around him, and she wants to do it more.

He’s still smiling to himself when he gets up to find the bathroom. Before he can make it back to his seat, he finds Uncle laying a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“You seem to be having a lovely evening, my nephew,” he says with a smile. “Any time you want to come back, I’m only a phone call away.”

“I know, Uncle,” Zuko responds automatically. “Thank you…for everything. It’s been really nice tonight.”

He wishes he could say more; he wants to apologize for the years spent avoiding Uncle and getting grouchy at his attempts at affection, but he doesn’t know how to approach that.

Uncle, as always, seems to understand him despite no words being spoken. He pulls Zuko into a hug and pats him on the back. “You know you always have a place with me, don’t you?”

He steps back with his hands on Zuko’s shoulders, an unmistakable look of pride in his eyes that Zuko has only seen from his own father in dreams. “I promise you, Zuko. No matter what happens. You don’t have to do everything all on your own, and you will always have a home with me if you need it.”

“I know, Uncle,” Zuko says with a smile as he heads back to the table. “I promise I’ll ask you if I need help.”

He actually means it this time, too.

The rest of the night is just as comforting. It’s rare for Zuko to be in an environment where he can relax and not have to watch his back at all times. He converses with Katara until they’re both growing sleepy with the rich meal Uncle had provided. He learns about the special seaweed lotion Katara’s mother had shown her how to make, and lets her rub some into his hands, the soothing touch lingering as their fingers intertwine. Zuko mentions that he likes drawing, and she excitedly encourages him to pull out his phone and show her some pictures of his latest sketches.

By the time he’s walking Katara to the car after a grateful farewell from Uncle, she’s pressed as close as she can get to him while walking, lovingly clutching his arm like she doesn’t want to let go. Zuko doesn’t really want her to let go, either.

“That was wonderful,” Katara tells him when he steps into the driver’s seat and closes the door. Suddenly, she seems surprised. “Oh…how much do I owe you?”

“Nothing,” Zuko says with a smile as he pulls out of the restaurant. “It’s all covered. I’m glad your night was as wonderful as mine.”

“Zuko…” Katara trails off in disbelief. “That must have been a lot! Surely I owe you something.”

“No,” Zuko says softly, though he’s thinking of something else now. “No, you don’t owe me anything at all. Besides, Uncle wouldn’t let me pay a single coin, either.”

“That sounds like your uncle,” Katara chuckles along with him. “But…I still feel like I owe you. You’ve been so good to me, Zuko.”

They’re parked in front of her townhouse by now, and Zuko takes her hand and kisses it, smiling at the refreshing scent of the lotion still on her skin.

“I just want you to feel good,” Zuko promises. He finds himself looking away in guilt. “Katara…I’m so so sorry about what happened that night. I’m—I can’t even imagine. I should have known. I should have gotten you help so much sooner, I—”

“Zuko?” Katara interrupts, blinking at him with a confused expression. “You…blame yourself for that? I” —she closes her eyes and takes a breath— “I don’t know what would have happened that night without you. I’ll never forget what you did. You went against your own frat brothers for a girl you didn’t even know.”

“I’d do it again in a heartbeat,” Zuko says. A flash of anger strikes him as her words hit home; the implication—which he knows to be true—that many if not most of his brothers wouldn’t have done what he did makes his fists clench. Why should she feel indebted to him for the most basic of decency?

“And…Katara?” he says, calming himself. “I…I told you before I didn’t expect anything in return. And I don’t. I’ve loved spending time with you and getting to know you, but if this—if I’m—not something you want, you don’t have to stay, alright? I would never want to make you feel trapped.”

“Why wouldn’t I want you?” Her hand is back at his forearm, soft thumb rubbing a comforting circle across his wrist.

“Well, I…” Zuko trails off, not wanting to sound self-pitying. His hand drifts up to the burned part of his face out of habit, brushing his shaggy hair across in a futile attempt to hide the scarring. He knows he isn’t desirable and he’s made peace with that. He just can’t understand what someone like Katara would want with him.

Katara catches his hand in hers, eyes wide. “Zuko? Are you worried about…?”

She won’t say it either, but where she’s looking makes it obvious. He’s expecting pity, but more than anything else, she looks surprised. Zuko blinks down at her, confused.

“I…think you’re very handsome, actually,” Katara admits. She shakes her head and blushes. “It’s one of the first things I remember noticing about you, you know. When you helped me up those stairs.”

“What?” Zuko asks, stunned. Coming from anyone else, he’d have quickly dismissed it as a lie.

“Your eyes,” Katara says, smiling up at him. “You have the most beautiful eyes. Gold, just like a sunset. That’s the first thing I remember about you.”

“Oh,” Zuko gets out. He’s embarrassed at how choked up it makes him feel. It’s the simplest compliment, but it’s so warm and genuine coming from Katara. “Thank you.”

They sit in silence a few moments longer, Katara’s cool palm still resting on his arm. Finally, she breaks the silence, stretching her arms.

“Well, it’s getting late,” Katara says with a yawn. “But I want to see you soon, alright? Text me anytime you want. And I’ll tell you next time Suki sets up game night.”

“I will,” Zuko promises. He gets one last glance of Katara’s reassuring smile before hurrying over to open her car door and take her hand as she steps out.

Before Zuko has a chance to tell her goodnight, Katara wraps her arms around his waist and pulls him into a hug. He closes his arms around her as well. They stay there for a long moment—much longer than last time. Zuko wouldn’t dare complain.

He’s even more shocked when she pulls away and plants a kiss on his scarred cheekbone, slowly and deliberately. Zuko stares down in surprise while Katara smiles softly.

“I meant it, you know,” she whispers. “I think you’re beautiful, Zuko. All of you, inside and out.”

She hugs him again, this time running a hand through his hair on its way to his back. “And you’re such a great hugger.”

Zuko doesn’t even know what to say; if he tried to speak, he’s sure only some pathetic noise would come out. So he holds her instead, stroking his fingers through her soft, soft hair and risking a little peck of his lips on the top of her head.

“Goodnight,” he whispers to her when the spell finally breaks and they find themselves standing in front of her door.

Zuko stays until she’s closed the door behind her, safe and secure. He still feels her soft kiss and her loving embrace, still hears her voice telling him he’s beautiful and wishing he’d composed himself enough to say it back, tell Katara everything he adores about her and more.

He knows that feeling is love now.

—————

Zuko closes the back door of the frat house behind him with a smile on his face for the first time in…probably ever. He’s still thinking about where Katara’s soft lips had left a kiss on his cheeks and where her arms had wrapped around him. What Zuko would give to hold her that way every night, even if just for a moment.

He’s already imagining his next outing with Katara when a pair of hands roughly seizes him by the front of his shirt and slams his back against the wall.

Zuko glares up at his attacker, already gripping that hands still holding his clothes in warning.

“The fuck do you want, Ruon-Jian?” he spits.

“What kind of game do you think you’re playing, Scarface?” Ruon-Jian snarls. “Word on the street is, you’ve been out seeing my little Water slut. What’s with the outfit, need a little something to make up for your ugly face, is that it?”

“Fuck off,” Zuko snarls as he shoves the hands away. “It’s none of your business.”

He turns to leave for his room; he’s really not about to let this fucking bastard ruin a good night, but Ruon-Jian slams his hand into the wall, blocking Zuko’s path with his arm. The force of it nearly makes him jump.

“I think it is my business,” Ruon-Jian snaps at him. “What, you think you can get Chan into trouble and try to get me into trouble? Just so you can have some stupid fucking whore all to yourself? Really fucking not cool. That’s not how brotherhood is supposed to work.”

“If that’s how brotherhood works, then I don’t fucking want it!” Zuko growls, the volume of his voice rising with his anger. A quick glance to the side shows they have an audience forming. “She’s smart, she’s beautiful, and she’s kind. How fucking dare you talk about her that way! You don’t give two fucking shits about who she is and what she wants. That’s why you and your disgusting fucking pig of a friend fucking roofied her! You knew she was too good for you, so you resorted to being fucking rapists to feed your egos. You should be in fucking prison, not just expelled.”

Ruon-Jian’s face contorts in rage before he grabs Zuko and slams him back into the wall, harder this time. There must be a dent there by now. He glowers back at Ruon-Jian, his body aching to knock his teeth out like he fucking deserves. But he restrains himself, remembering Jee’s warning.

“You’re going to regret talking like that, you little shit,” the other boy seethes. His grip tightens, an inch away from choking Zuko.

“What are you going to fucking do about it?” Zuko challenges, the time for de-escalation long past. “You know what you were trying to fucking do that night. You’re only mad because you were caught. That makes you a rapist, you fucking scumbag.”

“Stop fucking calling me that!” Ruon-Jian screams in Zuko’s face, shaking him roughly in his grip.

Zuko’s vision begins to cloud with a red haze. The looming threat of expulsion from the frat forced him to contain himself, but he begins to wonder if it’s really worth it. He’s only here because it’s what Ozai wanted, a desperate attempt to win some favor in the eyes of his father through legacy. But why should that concern him any longer?

Would he turn his back on what he knows is right and proudly stand alongside this corrupt organization to appease his equally corrupt father? Ozai, who never praised Zuko’s achievements but never hesitated to beat him down at the slightest misstep. Ozai, who Zuko now understands to be a notoriously shady businessman. Ozai, who threatened him and gave him detailed instructions on how to lie to the police when he was still sobbing in pain in the burn unit.

Zuko feels his inhibitions lifting at the realization. He’s done forcing himself to ignore what he knows to be wrong. He’s done living some sick lie under Ozai’s thumb.

When the first punch connects with Zuko’s jaw, he stops holding back altogether.

He lunges forward, breaking Ruon-Jian’s grip on him, punching and kicking with everything he has. Whoops and laughter sound all around them, but Zuko doesn’t care. He will not let this fucking bastard get away with what he fucking did.

By the time they’re finally broken up, it’s all a blur. Zuko notes with a dark satisfaction that Ruon-Jian seems worse off than him before they’re hauled off in separate directions. Zuko doesn’t even notice his own bloody nose and split lip until he’s sitting in front of two university police officers for questioning.

Thankfully, Tam and a few of the others testify that Ruon-Jian had attacked Zuko first, pinning him to the wall and punching him before Zuko had raised a hand. At least he won’t be charged with assault, though he’s still kicked out of the frat. He’s even more hated than he was before, but not by anyone whose opinion he gives any thought to.

It’s supposed to be humiliating, but Zuko feels nothing but relief as he moves his things out. Uncle comes over in an instant to help, immediately extending the offer to live in his apartment as he has many times before. This time, Zuko graciously accepts it.

After insisting upon checking Zuko over for any signs of a concussion—again—Uncle finally helps him get settled into his new room with a warm smile on his face. He doesn’t say it out loud, but he seems proud of Zuko for finally getting kicked out of that stupid frat.

Zuko smiles out at the view of the city and waterfront below with a freshly-brewed cup of tea in his hand as he unpacks his things. His phone buzzes and he instantly perks up when he sees Katara on the screen.

He’s in a good place now.

Chapter Text

Katara excitedly sets down her phone and springs up from bed.

Usually, she would have had to drag herself out of bed this early on a Saturday, but the text from Zuko telling her he’s on his way has her running around her apartment with enthusiasm.

The past week, he’s been busy moving in with his uncle, a change that Katara is so happy that he’s made. She hasn’t had a chance to see for herself yet, but Zuko has been keeping her updated with pictures of the view, his uncle’s two cats, and of course, a beautiful kitchen full of tea. Katara has only known him for a few weeks, but he seems so much more hopeful than he was before.

Besides, Suki had assured Katara that he’s a keeper with a wink after Zuko told her how welcome the cleanliness and peacefulness of the apartment is after all the months spent in that frat.

Now, he’s finally on his way to see her again.

Katara has been anxious to spend time with him in person again. She and Zuko have been texting near constantly, but it’s not the same as listening to his soft laugh and watching the way he blushes and smiles when she gives him a compliment he doesn’t know how to react to. She even offered to help him move, but—admittedly to Katara’s relief—Zuko had politely assured her that he and his uncle had it covered; he didn’t want her to have to go near that frat again. Zuko had promised her choice of date as soon as he was available, which Katara had easily agreed to. He’s even already threatening to treat her to another night at the Jasmine Dragon.

But, this morning, Katara has her way.

True to his word, Zuko had left their destination up to her. Katara decided on something more casual; a day at a beach dear to her childhood. It’s only a ten minute walk from her and Suki’s townhouse, and it’s been so long since Katara has set aside the time to go there. She’d felt almost foolish for wanting to take any previous boyfriends to her favorite tide pools to look at sea creatures, but somehow, asking Zuko felt perfectly natural.

Katara remembers the curious and interested sparkle his eyes had maintained during their entire first conversation, and she knows she has nothing to worry about. She hopes he’ll like it, and who knows, maybe he’ll take her to one of his favorite childhood places sometime, too.

However, when Katara finally hears the knock at the door, the anxiety comes crashing back.

Shit—is it 10:00 already? Flustered, Katara realizes she hasn’t had time to put on her makeup yet and rushes to finish brushing her hair. She’s about to ask Suki to stall Zuko again when she remembers that she’s already left for the gym.

Katara runs the brush through her hair one more time before all but throwing it back into its drawer. She’s nearly falling over herself in an effort to answer the door quickly. She throws it open—not wanting to keep Zuko waiting a second longer—and then the world comes to a screeching halt as she takes him in.

Zuko smiles as brightly as the morning sun shining down on him. It lights him up from the tips of his shaggy black hair to those honey-colored eyes Katara has learned to love so much.

“Hi,” she says breathlessly, smoothing one last strand of hair into place with her fingers.

“Hi,” Zuko responds. He scratches the nape of his neck as he glances down. “I uh…I brought you something. They’re espresso mochi—Uncle and I made them last night. I thought I’d bring some since I know how much you like coffee, and…”

“Zuko, that’s so sweet of you,” Katara breathes, right before mentally kicking herself for cutting him off. “Thank you—these look great! Here, I’ll put them in the freezer.”

His face lights up at her praise as she beckons him inside and she feels her cheeks flush as she hurries into the kitchen and carefully puts away the mochi. Katara knows their first sort-of-date was in a coffee shop, but the knowledge that Zuko had cared to remember her love of coffee still warms her heart as much as the image of him standing with his uncle and carefully wrapping each one by hand.

“Sorry, I’m running a little late,” Katara apologizes as she closes the fridge, eyes darting around in case there are any messes she missed earlier. “I didn’t even have time to do my makeup—”

“Don’t worry, Katara,” Zuko says, his soft voice filling her with warmth and stopping her in her tracks. “I’m just happy to see you.”

She pauses in front of him, and she can’t help but smile back at the warm look on his face. For some reason Katara had been stressing about this date, but now that he’s here, she feels it melt away. She finds herself standing right in front of Zuko, close enough to feel his breath.

The memory of the kiss she’d given him that night in his car suddenly comes to her, and Katara feels a blush color her cheeks.

Zuko must be thinking the same thing; he leans forward and there is just the faintest hint of hesitation, waiting for her permission, before he returns her gesture from their last meeting.

The kiss on her cheek is brief, but so beautifully soft and warm, before he pulls away. Katara can feel his smile against her skin.

“You have the most beautiful freckles,” Zuko says softly before kissing them again. “I never noticed them before.”

“Thank you,” Katara breathes, still lost in that little kiss, before she finally has the chance to get a closer look at his face.

Her eyes widen.

“Are those…bruises?” Katara asks worriedly as she cups his chin and tilts his face to the side.

Sure enough, she sees the faint yellowing of bruises along his jaw and eyebrow, and a small cut where his lip had been split. Injuries a few days old by the looks of them…but what happened?

“Don’t worry,” Zuko murmurs as he gently pulls her hand away from his face and gives it a kiss. “Things were a little…rough the night I got kicked out of the frat, but I’m okay. It’s over now.”

“They…hit you? In the face?” Katara asks, still focused on the fading bruises and feeling anger bubble up. Zuko had said Ruon-Jian had caused a bit of a scuffle when he returned home from their date, but had brushed it off as nothing.

“Don’t worry, I hit him back,” Zuko says with a rueful smile. “I’m fine, Katara, really. I’d do it all again in a heartbeat.”

He doesn’t elaborate, but Katara knows exactly what he’s talking about. She reaches forward and embraces him, planting a soft kiss along his jaw. “I’m so glad you’re away from them now.”

“So am I. And I’m glad you’re safe from them, too,” Zuko whispers with a kiss on her forehead. “So, did you want to show me that beach you were telling me about?”

Katara smiles and takes his hand. “Of course.”

—————

Katara breathes in the fresh air as she walks down towards the beach with Zuko, already feeling good about the day.

It’s not what most people would consider a nice day—the sky is gray and threatening to rain and a cold wind chills the air. But Katara has always loved days like this. The cool breeze feels soothing as it washes over her skin, and she looks forward to the warmth of a nice cup of coffee in her hands. It reminds her of the days she used to come here as a kid, with Mom and Sokka.

She rubs the blue stone of her necklace with her thumb on instinct, a tinge of sadness coming over her.

“Are you okay?” Zuko asks softly as he places a hand on her shoulder. “Are you cold?”

“No,” Katara answers honestly, but she doesn’t hesitate to lean into his touch with a smile. “Not when I’ve got the world’s most handsome space heater next to me.”

Katara feels herself cringe as soon as she says it—that was one of the cheesiest things she’s ever said—but Zuko doesn’t seem to mind.

He only laughs a little before kissing her hair. “Glad to be of service.”

“Sorry…that was terrible. I promise I’m not always this cringey.”

“Don’t worry,” Zuko says as he nuzzles into her cheek. “You’re so beautiful when you’re cringey.”

Katara rolls her eyes but keeps walking. Something about that comment manages to set her at ease. She’s used to being mocked, either for laughing too easily, not laughing enough, or for being unfunny, as Sokka put it.

But not Zuko. Zuko can’t tell a lie to save his life, and Katara knows he means it when he smiles warmly and tells her how he loves her company. Cringe and all.

“Do you want some coffee?” asks Zuko, gesturing to a little shack sitting at the edge of the beach.

Katara feels herself light up. The same place she used to go as a kid. It disappeared for a couple years and Katara thought it had gone out of business, but she’s delighted to see it back.

“Yes! This place used to be my favorite,” she tells Zuko. “Their sea prune syrup is amazing. I know most people don’t like it but…”

“It sounds great, Katara,” Zuko says as they step up to the window. “Two lattes, please. With extra sea prune syrup.”

Katara reaches for her wallet out of instinct, but Zuko’s hand stops her.

“My treat,” he promises as the cashier gives the pair of them a warm smile. “I owe you for showing me the beach.”

Katara rolls her eyes but accepts the coffee with a smile. She can’t help the way her heart flutters. She’s been in relationships that lasted months without this kind of casual intimacy. This is only her third real date with Zuko, and already he has a way of making her feel special with the smallest of gestures, of showing he cares for her while expecting nothing in return. Katara hopes she’s not getting ahead of herself…but the word that lingers on the tip of her tongue is love. A simple yet powerful thing, something nobody outside of family has made her feel before.

“We haven’t even looked at the beach yet,” Katara says sheepishly.

“I know I’ll love it,” Zuko assures her as he hands her the coffee. “I would love any place I get to be with you.”

“Now who’s being cringey,” she teases, but that little flutter in her chest is only getting stronger.

Zuko sticks out his tongue.

As they approach the shore, Katara is glad to see it’s low tide. It’s always the best time to come, when more of the beach is exposed and the little creatures that always fascinated Katara could be found more easily.

Zuko remarks how different it is from the beaches he remembers in the Fire Nation—hot and sunny with white sand and a backdrop of lush jungle. The beaches in Republic City are gray, rocky, and the water is almost always too cold to swim in. But Katara has so many fond memories of them, even those memories of Sokka chasing her around with a giant head of slimy ocean-kumquats.

It’s all so familiar, and Katara feels her happy childhood memories returning.

She shows Zuko where to find the biggest urchin-crabs, and points out the tiny, colorful fish hiding in the corners of the pools. Zuko seems skeptical of the kelp-slugs, but rubs the slime on his hands after Katara explains how it was traditionally used as an ointment to treat sunburns and eel-jelly stings.

Zuko says his sister always told him to just pee on it, to which Katara rolls her eyes and tells him Sokka used to say the same thing—and probably still does. It makes her wonder how well Sokka and Azula would get along, for two people who seem like they couldn’t be more different.

Finally, they reach the end of the beach and settle down on a dried-out log, gazing out into the calm bay as they sip their coffee. It's just as good as Katara remembers, and she notes with pride that Zuko doesn’t seem to be pretending to like his as he sips it.

She’s surprised when he pulls out a sketchbook and begins gently tracing the outline of the rocky beach and rippling waves before them. He’s not very good, he says, but Katara finds herself mesmerized as she watches his fingers deftly move the charcoal across the page.

Zuko says he used to draw a lot as a kid, back when his life felt normal, as he put it. He doesn’t go into detail, but based on what Katara has pieced together from what he’s said about his abusive father and his mother’s disappearance, she has a pretty good idea of what he’s thinking. His face always softens when he speaks of his mother, and Katara can’t help but hug him around the waist when he says he used to draw with her. Somewhere there exist many pairs of paintings—an elegant one created by a talented artist and a crude one created by a curious child.

A few stray drops of water begin to leak from the sky, and Zuko finally closes his sketchbook, the scene almost complete. Katara realizes how late it’s getting—and how cold.

She instinctively shivers as she stands. The cold was alright while she was walking, but after sitting still on that log in this weather, she’s really regretting her choice of clothing. Normally, Katara would venture here in gray sweats and a bulky sweater, but today she just wanted to wear something pretty.

“Here,” Zuko says before she’s taken a step, already sliding off his jacket and offering it to her. “You look cold.”

“Are you sure?” Katara asks, seeing he’s only wearing a T-shirt underneath. “What about you?”

“I’ll be fine,” he promises as Katara allows him to slip it around her shoulders. “I run hot.”

“I’ve noticed,” Katara says with a smirk.

“Really? I mean, I don’t get cold easily, but I didn’t think other people could notic—oh,” Zuko cuts himself off as the realization sinks in, a blush forming on his cheeks.

Katara laughs and pushes him on the shoulder. “Oh, Zuko, you’re so easy.”

He groans, but Katara still sees the lingering blush. She’s on his non-scarred side, and she remembers what he said before, those subtle self-deprecating comments he made about himself.

Zuko had implied he’d been young when he’d gotten it. Katara can hardly imagine what he’d gone through in his childhood years, the cruel comments he’d endured in addition to the pain and trauma of the event that had left him maimed.

Yet, somehow, he made it through just like she did, and Katara is so glad to have him walking beside her on her favorite beach. Zuko feels so warm to her in every sense of the word, in such a magnetic way. The scent of him on his jacket surrounds her and she finds herself drawn into his side. Katara feels a touch of guilt as the freezing rain picks up, beginning to wet Zuko’s exposed hair and shirt.

The walk home always seems so much longer in the rain.

Katara hurries up the hill towards the townhouse, anxious to get a now-shivering Zuko out of the weather, and still cursing herself for not dressing warmly enough. Zuko only smirks and says the workout of trekking up the hill is keeping him warm enough.

But by the time they finally reach the front door, Zuko can’t hide the way his teeth are chattering with the cold. They’re both completely soaked, but Zuko’s hair and thin shirt stick to his skin in a way that would be flattering if he wasn’t shaking with shivers.

“Zuko, you’re freezing,” Katara says, taking his hand as they step inside.

She should give his jacket back, but it’s so soaked that it would probably only make him colder.

“It’s fine,” he says. “Maybe we could make some tea? Uncle always told me it was the best way to warm up.”

“I’ll get your tea,” Katara promises as she begins steering Zuko towards the bathroom. “But I want you to take a hot shower before you catch a cold.”

Zuko pouts a little at that. Katara wonders how he’d feel if she told him how adorable he is when he’s grumpy.

“Oh come on,” she says with a smile. “Your clothes are soaked anyways and there’s a spare towel in the bathroom. You’ll feel good. I can put our clothes in the dryer.”

“You’re sure?” Zuko asks. “I don’t really have a change of clothes…”

“That’s okay,” Katara says quickly—maybe a little too quickly. She feels her cheeks color. “I meant…I can put them in the dryer while you’re showering. That way you’ll have something dry to wear.”

“Oh…yeah, right,” Zuko says as he awkwardly clears his throat, and Katara wishes she could disappear into the ground. “I’ll get changed real quick.”

With that, he closes the bathroom door behind him. Katara hears the shuffling of clothes and tries not to think about the fact that Zuko is getting naked behind that door. She knows from the times they’ve touched how toned his muscles feel beneath his clothes, and she can’t help but wonder…

“Here,” Zuko says softly as his arm pops out from behind the door, holding his drenched clothes. “Thanks again, Katara.”

“No problem,” she says as she takes them, thankful that he can’t see her blushing through the door.

Katara tosses his wet clothes in the dryer in a hurry, hanging her own out to dry before finding something cozy to wear. She settles on a blue sweater and some leggings, but there is still a lingering chill on her damp skin and hair.

Blushing again as she passes the bathroom door—and the distinctive sounds of Zuko showering behind it—Katara searches around in the kitchen for some tea. Most of what she has isn’t anything fancy, but she digs for something special. She knows Zuko’s uncle is very invested and his tea and figures at least some of it rubbed off on Zuko.

Finally, she settles for a nice ginseng blend and sets her kettle boiling. What about food…

Crap.

Katara had been planning on suggesting a cafe along the beachwalk for lunch before they’d been caught out in the rain. Grocery day is tomorrow for her, so her fridge is barren aside from a couple of Suki’s protein shakes.

She has no idea how long she’s been digging around in the fridge before Zuko’s voice startles her.

“Do you need help with anything?”

Katara turns around quickly, and seeing Zuko standing in the doorway only makes her more flustered.

He’s standing there awkwardly, wearing nothing but the spare towel wrapped around his waist. The navy blue color contrasts his pale skin in the most flattering way. Katara’s eyes drift up to meet his and she sees his bare chest with droplets of water still glistening on it, dripping down from his damp hair.

Katara doesn’t have to find a mirror to know the heat in her cheeks is most definitely showing.

“I…uh…” she murmurs, before clearing her throat. “I was looking for something to eat.”

“Oh! Actually…I took care of that,” Zuko says with a smile. “I hope you don’t mind. I ordered us some takeout from Mura’s down the street while I was in the bathroom. You said you really like their yakisoba, right?”

Katara blinks. She does; it’s one of her go-to meals when she doesn’t feel like cooking, but she only remembers mentioning it to Zuko in passing. “Oh…that’s wonderful! Thank you.”

At that moment, the tea kettle begins screeching, and Katara hurries over to take it off the heat, thankful for the excuse to hide her burning cheeks from Zuko—even if just for a moment. It really wasn’t her intention to trick him into undressing in her house…even if she’s not exactly complaining.

“I have some tea, if you want it,” Katara says as she tries to focus on something other than Zuko standing half-naked a few feet away, still smiling to herself at his thoughtfulness. “It’s a ginseng blend. Oh and—how much do I owe you for the takeout?”

“Ginseng is one of my favorites,” Zuko says and fuck—he’s standing right behind her, close enough that she feels his warmth. “Don’t worry about the takeout. My gift to you for letting me use your shower…and making me tea.”

“Well, thank you, Zuko,” Katara says, still not quite over her nerves. She knows Suki would be laughing her ass off if she was here right now. “But I’m at least making you pick out the movie.”

“Movie?” Zuko asks as he takes his tea.

“Oh…well, your clothes are still drying,” Katara explains quickly. Luckily, Zuko seems to join her in her awkwardness at the reminder that he’s wearing nothing but a towel.

“Oh…right,” he says, his own cheeks coloring before he smiles meekly. Why does he have to be so cute? “We can browse for something while we wait for the food to get here.”

“But you’re picking,” Katara tells him as she picks up the two cups of tea and moves towards the living room.

It’s almost nice having an excuse; she never knows what to watch and doesn’t want to subject Zuko to her usual diet of trashy reality TV shows.

Zuko mockingly pouts as Katara hands him the remote, but doesn’t protest.

“Here,” Katara says, grabbing a blanket without thinking about it and tossing it towards Zuko. “Wearing a blanket and a towel is a little better than wearing just a towel.”

There is a strange look on Zuko’s face, and for a moment, Katara fears she might have overstepped in her teasing. But then she notices what he’s looking at.

The blanket she’d tossed him—it’s his blanket. The one from that night, red with the golden dragon. Katara had kept forgetting to give it back to him after he’d carried her to the hospital in it.

“Oh…right,” she says awkwardly after it becomes clear Zuko doesn’t know what to say. “I’ve been meaning to give that back to you.”

“Katara, I’m so sorry,” he says quietly, still staring at the blanket in his hands. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that. I can’t believe I even associated with those guys.”

“Zuko, don’t be so hard on yourself,” Katara tells him as she takes a seat next to him.

He finally looks up at her, pain still raw in his golden eyes.

“I’m right here, okay? Can you imagine what would have happened if you didn’t step in?” Katara takes his hand and squeezes it, the gesture somehow feeling natural now. “You went against your frat brothers—you’d be surprised how many men wouldn’t have. You’re kind, Zuko. And strong. You shouldn’t feel sorry about that.”

“You mean that?” he says quietly, his expression brightening in a way that makes Katara’s heart melt.

“Of course,” she says before deciding it’s time for a more playful mood. With a smirk, she tosses the blanket around Zuko’s head and shoulders, framing his confused face. “And cute.”

Zuko rolls his eyes. “You had to ruin it.”

“Of course I did,” Katara laughs, but she can’t get over the rosy hue of his cheeks, despite his protest. “Now pick out the movie…cutie.”

Zuko sticks out his tongue at her and Katara can’t repress her giggle as he picks up the remote and begins scrolling through movies. She’s curious what he’ll pick; he’d mentioned liking martial arts movies before but not much else.

To her surprise, he stops on an animated film that Katara vaguely remembers watching as a kid: Love Amongst The Dragons.

She raises an eyebrow.

Zuko shrugs. “You said I could pick.”

“No! No…I like that movie. I’m just surprised it’s your top pick is all,” Katara replies.

“It’s my favorite movie,” Zuko explains. “I used to watch it with my mom and sister as a kid. My mom loved it. It…brings back good memories.”

Katara suddenly feels guilty for her skepticism, but completely understands. “That’s very sweet. I’d love to watch it with you.”

“It’s based on an old Fire Nation legend, you know,” Zuko explains as the loading dots flicker on the screen. “My mom was a huge mythology nerd.”

“Your mom sounds wonderful,” Katara says, feeling his loss as well as her own. Zuko talks about her with a fondness that warms Katara’s heart, making her feel almost as if she too knew his mother.

“She was,” Zuko says sadly. “She even got Azula and me theater masks based on Love Amongst The Dragons. We used to recreate the fight scenes. Azula always made me be the dark water spirit. Sometimes I think it was just an excuse for her to hit me with a stick.”

Katara can’t help but laugh at that, thinking of all those times she chased Sokka with a jellyfish on a stick at the beach as a kid. “Who doesn’t want to hit their big brother with a stick sometimes?”

“Fair enough,” Zuko says with a shrug. “It was still a fun game though, I admit.”

The movie starts, and Katara feels the conversation fade between them as the opening music starts. It really was a good pick; Katara instantly is reminded of being a kid again, sitting with Sokka and a bowl of popcorn on the couch as they watched this same movie.

Obviously she’s known Zuko for a much shorter time, but somehow she feels the comfort in his presence too. Even though they didn’t know each other at the time, they still share this part of their childhood, in a sense.

Zuko watches with a fondness in his eyes. Katara loves to see it from him. She knows his childhood was difficult and that caused him to lash out in the past as he’d admitted to her, but he seems at peace now. Katara likes that she can bring that out in him; it only adds to the connection she feels. The security.

Unconsciously at first—then maybe a little bit on purpose—Katara finds herself shifting closer to Zuko on the couch. The chill from the rainy beach hasn’t quite left her and Zuko is radiating heat. It feels so good that Katara can even get over the awkwardness of how…undressed he is under that blanket and towel.

Katara has just about managed to sneakily position herself at his side when the doorbell rings, startling her. Dammit!

“Oh, that must be the food,” Zuko says as he moves to stand.

“It’s okay, I’ve got it!” Katara says as she hurries over, hoping once again that he doesn’t catch the blush.

As soon as the door opens and the savory scent of freshly cooked yakisoba hits her nose, she feels even more gratitude for Zuko.

“This smells amazing,” she says as she sets the bag down on the table and begins unpacking the two containers. “Thanks again; it’s the perfect thing to beat this chill.”

Zuko raises his eyebrow. “Are you still cold?”

“A little,” Katara shrugs. “It’s fine.”

She’s barely sat back down before Zuko is draping the blanket around her shoulders and offering her one of the yakisoba containers.

“Here,” he says before quickly looking away. “For…warmth.”

Katara nearly giggles at him; doing something so simple seems like it’s about to make him explode from anxiety. Although it’s not too different from how she’s been acting…and it’s all pretty ridiculous. Why be nervous? She and Zuko both clearly can sense how much closer they’re becoming, and it doesn’t bother either of them one bit.

“What about you?” Katara says with more confidence this time. “Won’t you get cold without the blanket?”

She knows full well there is more than one blanket in this house, but hopes Zuko doesn’t think to ask about it.

“Oh, well…no? I mean I’m fine,” he says sheepishly.

“We could share it,” Katara suggests with a smile.

“Oh, don’t worry; I’m fine, you can—”

“Zuko,” she says flatly. “I’m asking you to cuddle with me under that blanket.”

He blinks at her, before he finally stops fumbling his words and smiles instead. “That sounds like a good way to warm up to me.”

So there Katara finds herself, snuggled into Zuko’s side as they eat their yakisoba and watch Love Amongst The Dragons play on the living room TV. Katara wishes she can stay in this moment forever, and she has the beautiful thought that even though she’ll eventually get up from this couch, there could be so many more moments like this in her future. Maybe one day, every evening could be spent this way with Zuko.

Katara imagines how that would be, always having this feeling of comfort—this home—to return to. It feels safe. It feels free. Even the feeling of Zuko’s chest rising and falling under her cheek is soothing. His warm breath dances across her skin, and she really does begin to feel that lingering chill disappear as she sinks further into him.

She’s usually not one to fall asleep during movies, but even Katara feels her eyes slip closed as she’s lulled into a peaceful sleep by the comforting environment surrounding her

—————

Unfortunately, Katara doesn’t wake up nearly as peacefully as she’d fallen asleep.

“I’m home!” Suki announces as the front door slams open, causing Katara and Zuko to jump in sync. A mischievous look crosses her face as soon as she locks eyes with Katara. “Oh…I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

Katara knows how weird this must look. Zuko must have fallen asleep too, because the movie is over and the screen is frozen on the end credits. They’re lying right up against each other on the couch in the dark, and Zuko is wearing nothing but a towel. Oh, Suki will never let her hear the end of this. Neither will Sokka, when he inevitably finds out.

For a long moment, nobody speaks. Suki looks amused yet proud—and definitely still looking to tease. Zuko looks stunned, unsure of what to say.

Well, if she’s going to get shit anyway…

“Oh, don’t worry, there’s nothing to see here,” Katara says as she turns around and kisses Zuko’s cheek. “We’re all finished.”

Suki raises an eyebrow, smirk deepening.

Katara laughs and nods towards the screen. “With the movie. Zuko wanted to watch Love Amongst The Dragons.”

“Ah,” Suki says, still with that knowing look in her eyes. “Nice pick. Well…I’ll leave you to it, then. In case you want to…watch it again.”

Zuko bursts out laughing as soon as she leaves the room. “And I thought Azula was the queen of messing with people.”

Katara shrugs. “I have my moments.”

Zuko kisses her back, his arms wrapping around her waist as he does.

“Many moments,” he agrees.

Katara sighs as she sinks back into him. Many moments, she thinks as she thinks about how much she would like to watch that movie again—or any movie for that matter, as long as it was here with Zuko. Just like this.

From the way he’s holding her and falling asleep against her shoulder, Katara knows that there will indeed be so many more moments spent together in their future.