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“Hold still,” urged a gentle sounding Katara, her brows furrowed in careful concentration. The calmness radiating from her ocean-blue eyes was intensely palpable, one that the impending Fire Lord could feel deep in his sputtering soul. As her slender hands laid flatly against his chest, a pretty blue orbiting around them, Zuko’s mind went adrift. There was something so compelling about her ability to heal, and it gave him an even greater admiration for the Waterbender who has sacrificed countless hours to mend his star-shaped wound. Well, to be fair, the admiration ran deep, like a vast stream surrounded by gorgeous green.
“Zuko,” said that gentle sounding voice. “What are you daydreaming about?” A smile came after the question. “Maybe it’s best if you sleep some more,” suggested Katara. She shifted in her seat, leaning forward to get closer to the bed Zuko was laying upon. Some locks of brown came tumbling forward as well, swaying with each and every movement that she made. In the corner of his eye, Zuko could make out the cordial colors of dawn prodding at the sky’s dark patches of grey. The elaborate quilt that was beginning to burst from the seams coaxed him into staying awake.
Zuko breathed out a sigh. “I wasn’t daydreaming, only thinking. And no, I want to stay up for a bit longer, maybe move around, even if it’s just in here.” He tilted his head, golden eyes finding blue ones. “That’s probably the answer that you didn’t want to hear.”
Katara removed her hands from him, fingers slightly crooked from their growing soreness. Zuko was quick to notice, pointing his chin towards them. “You should be the one resting, you’ve been going at this for the past few hours,”
She shook her head at him. “I know when I should stop, and it isn’t now.”
“Katara,” spoke Zuko, saying her name firmly. “Please,”
Her eyes were beginning to glisten. Katara brought her tired hands to clench at her upper legs, closing her eyes in the process. Her mouth was curved into a solemn frown. “How can I ever repay you?”
Zuko’s eyes widened. Something close to melancholy rattled his expression. The words clawed at the back of his throat, but they never found their way out.
“Lightning,” She tilted her head away from him. “You’ll always have that scar, that memory of what you did… for me.”
His face became calm once again. “Katara, without you… I wouldn’t even be here right now. There is nothing you need to do to repay me. Nothing.”
Katara’s hands began to relax, but her face was still tugged with hurt. “Then why?” She tossed her stare to him, and he caught it immediately. “Not just that, taking something like that for me… why have you been…” Her breathing became unsteady as she searched for the words. The slight twitching of her fingers made a part of Zuko’s heart clench as if her hand had grabbed hold of it. Determined, Zuko gathered whatever energy he could fathom to pull at his arm, reaching a calloused hand outward to her, fingertips lightly brushing against hers.
Katara flinched at his delicate touch. Zuko could make out the slight pink tint spreading across her startled face. A part of him wanted to smile at the sight, seeing the usually calm and collected Katara he so admired display a feeling so out-of-her element, but he withheld himself, finding that now wasn’t the time; instead, Zuko made the effort to bring Katara’s hand into his, holding it so that he could guide it.
She looked on, a mixture of certainty and uncertainty crossing her face. Katara rested her hand against Zuko’s, letting it fall into place. Her expression relaxed. His hand led hers to a familiar place: his scar.
“You’ve already given me something, Katara,” The words came so easy now. Perhaps it was because of the resurfacing memories pulsating throughout his entire being, or the compassion that was nearly bursting from Katara’s tender stare. Whatever the answer was, Zuko was speaking straight from the heart that was under her grasp. “Your kindness, your understanding,”
He closed his eyes. “I care about you, Katara,”
His hand slowly fell but hers remained in its place, holding gently at his scarred side.
“I know that,” she started with. She brushed her thumb against his warm skin, urging him to open his eyes, and he did exactly that.
She was smiling again, one so achingly familiar to Zuko. It was like an affirmation, a declaration greater than the both of them. Katara opened her mouth as to speak, but it promptly shut. Keeping her hand there, gently caressing at Zuko’s left side, Katara broke her stare. She looked downward, eyes half-lidded. “You know, I’m not the only healer. There are probably better ones out there, ones who can heal you more quickly.”
It was his turn to shake his head. Oh, the plethora of things he could say to her, the countless ways he could debunk her silly notion. There was a way in which all of those words could be stated. With the way her fingertips grazed at his blemished skin, Zuko knew that his best course of action was to be completely and utterly transparent, for already was he made so by her compassionate touch.
He took her hand again, and he led it to quite a different place. Gently, Zuko pressed his sealed lips against Katara’s hand, keeping his radiant eyes shut. In response, Katara drew in an audible breath. She allowed for her hand to bend against his. In spite of his compromised vision, Zuko could clearly see her expression. His mind painted a beautiful picture of wide ocean-blue eyes, plush lips parted in wonder, and cheeks colored as if there were rose petals atop them. They were all easy things to imagine, given the way her knuckles caressed his mouth. It was almost surreal.
And it was everything.
A gleam of gold pierced Katara’s trajectory of sight. A smile brushed against her cool hands, sending warmth to trail along her veins. “This hand belongs to a master Waterbender,” said Zuko, his breath like a delicate flame. “And she’s the only one who can heal me.” He looked up, finally, and the painting he so lovingly fashioned was as genuine as an antique.
However, Zuko could not have predicted Katara’s sudden fit of graceful giggles. They tumbled out of her smile-stricken mouth, and she pulled away a bit to reel herself. At first, Zuko went stiff, thinking that he’s made an utter fool of himself. He even dared to mutter to himself in disappointment. Figures, he said. I’m not the best at this. Still, their hands remained intertwined.
“I’m sorry,” said Katara, breathlessly. “You’re just so sincere, Zuko! I swear… my heart almost melted.”
Now there were rose petals adorning his skin. Any semblance of confidence had leaped out of him, making a frantic dash to places unknown. “Is… is that bad?”
Katara gave him an earnest smile. “No, not at all. It’s a nice side of you, really.” She darted her eyes to the side in a display of timidity. “I like it,”
Zuko perked up. His muscles still ached, begging him with cries to stay in place, yet he felt compelled to go against their wishes. The bed groaned from the movement, and Katara immediately reacted by reaching her arms towards him. “What are you doing?” she asked him, her hands gripping his broad shoulders.
They were now eye-to-eye, almost parallel to one another. Zuko brought his hands to Katara’s waist, holding it gently with steady hands. For a moment, a memory resurfaced. A sea of gentle flames, the glowing amber sky mixed with hues of pink… it was breathtaking on its own, yet it was bested by that perfect moment when she fell into his arms. The warm colors of yonder paled in comparison to the touch of forgiveness she had given to him at that moment.
Now he was falling into her arms.
Katara’s arms stretched outwards, her hands hanging in mid-air. Her expression fluttered from surprise to content, a hint of humor pulling her face into an enlightened smile. The tips of her fingers met the smooth expanse of Zuko’s skin. It made the wounded Firebender heave a sigh of relief as if drops of refreshing water were running down his back. However, the feeling was short-lived.
Katara moved her hands back to his shoulders, pulling Zuko away from her.
For a moment, Zuko was only staring at the ocean.
And then, before he knew it, the ocean had reeled him into a blue new world, one where Katara’s lips were on his, and it was the only thing that mattered. His eyes were wide from how sudden it felt, yet they were quick to fall shut. He held her waist as if it were a baby bird; protective, gentle, and filled with affection. Her coaxing touch stroked his face, and she held on to it with the same amount of protectiveness as he to her waist.
It was destiny. That could be the only explanation for how her lips felt against his, Zuko rationalized. He wondered if she was thinking the same way, the places her thoughts were taking her.
Eventually, they had to part for breath. Once again, gold met blue in a tender, fleeting moment. The rose petals were back, but they appeared on both of their faces.
“I care about you too, Zuko,” confessed Katara, the red playing against her brown skin. Her smile stretched into something more sinister, impish. “That’s why I couldn’t wait for you to kiss me first. Who knows how long I’d had to wait?”
His purely loving expression deflated into utter defeat. He tried coming up with a retort, but she had been dealt far better cards than he. It reminded him of when they were subjected to watching that embarrassing play by the Ember Island Players. Her quick quip, a jab at his nearly permanent impassiveness put a dent in him, yet her satisfied smirk made it just slightly tolerable.
Slightly.
“Well, at least I got you to take a break,” noted Zuko, eyeing Katara’s hands. She tore her eyes from him to them, letting out a huff.
“Fine,” Katara reluctantly said. The yawn that escaped her only added to her disgruntled look. It made Zuko chuckle.
“I told you this once: You rise with the moon. I rise with the sun.” recited Zuko, his voice steady. He reached for Katara’s cheek, stroking a finger against it. “I want you to rest, and you need to.”
She gave in. “I will, then. But as soon as I wake up--”
Suddenly, Katara was being pulled forward.
“I know, I know,” Zuko whispered. As he brought Katara on to his sizeable bed, Zuko moved to its other side. He made sure to put some distance between him and her as to not startle her too much.
Once again, the master Waterbender was out-of-her element. She was burning from her bashfulness. “Are you sure I can-- is this okay?”
Before he solidified their distance, Zuko pressed a kiss against Katara’s forehead. “I’ll be up soon anyway, so don’t worry. Just rest, Katara. It’ll be dawn soon.”
Laying sideways, her waves of beautiful brown hair pooled on to the bed. The red was almost gone. “Okay…” Katara fixed her eyes close for a brief moment, but she was quick to open them. “You rise with the sun, after all.”
Zuko smiled at that. “Yeah, I do,” With one final look, the Firebender began his ascent. He powered through the aching in his bones and muscles to reach the edge of his bed. Even with his back against Katara, he could sense her worried stare, and it pierced through him. However, he let that be his motivation. If he could do this successfully, then perhaps even a sliver of worry would be chipped away from her. He wanted her to rest soundly, first and foremost.
Zuko was able to get his legs dangling from the bed. He stretched his arms, forming perpendicular lines with them before he let his bare feet touch the cool floor below.
From behind, he could hear a soothing voice. “I’m glad,” it said.
Zuko turned his head, but he only saw a Katara touched by sleep, smiling into her pillow.