Chapter Text
A month into their little arrangement , Katara knows more than she ever needed to about Zuko.
He hates waking up in the mornings, but he does it anyway to help his uncle at the tea shop when he’s not at school. It’s his least favorite habit, but it also gives him time to grab her a matcha latte non-dairy before he picks her and Sokka up for school.
He keeps his cropped hair short, so he doesn’t look too much like his father, even though the scar that twists half of his face into a permanent scowl ensures that no one would ever mistake the two for twins again.
Katara is the only person he let touch it.
It was during her homecoming dance that he begrudgingly took her to.
...
Katara is wearing a modest silver dress with thin straps that cross her shoulder blades. Her hair is twisted in a low bun at the base of her neck, and she is so unreasonably nervous that she can feel her toes slipping in her heels from what can only be anxious sweating.
She has no reason to be anxious; Katara is simply going to her junior year homecoming with her antisocial fake boyfriend from the rich kid school across the city.
Nothing to worry about at all.
“You look beautiful, honey,” her dad says from the doorway with misty eyes. “I only wish your mother could’ve been here to see you.”
Katara blinks back a few tears. “Thanks, dad. Me too.” She casts her eyes away in thought.
Hakoda walks into the room shaking his head. “Now, I didn’t come in her to make you cry.” At this Katara perks up, if only a little. “I mentioned your mother because, well, I think it’s about time to pass on the family heirloom.”
Her eyes were misty as her father pulled out her mother’s betrothal necklace from his pocket. “I thought she was buried in that necklace.” Her hands fly to her mouth, overcome with emotion, as her father fastened it around her neck.
“No, she wanted you to have it.” He presses his lips to the back of her head. “Perfect. Zuko is waiting for you downstairs if you’re ready to go.”
Katara gently dabs under her eyes in an attempt not to mess up her makeup. “Yeah, I’m ready,” she says, voice a little watery.
“Oh, by the way,” her father starts. “He got you one of those, uh, purple bubble drink things for you.”
Her lips immediately turned upwards. “Because he’s the sweetest boyfriend, Dad.” She moves around him and out the door.
Hakoda scratches the back of his head, watching his daughter walk down the hall. “I don’t know if I’d ever describe Zuko as sweet , but then again, I don’t understand the kids these days.”
...
Katara gives Zuko a small hug as she graciously accepts her beverage. “Looking good, Hotman. You clean up well.” She says it teasingly, but it is the honest truth. His slacks are black and pressed, and his red dress shirt is a nice accent color to her silver dress. He even bothered to have a silver pocket square to match her.
He ducks his head a little, face flushed. “Thanks, you, ah, you look—” Beautiful, stunning, perfect — “really nice, Katara.”
Her lips push out in a small pout, but she decides to let him off the hook. After all, they aren’t really dating, and she is kind of fishing for compliments from her fake boyfriend.
Maybe going to the Homecoming dance with her fake boyfriend and having to convince her classmates that they are 100% legit wasn’t her best idea.
Katara isn’t a coward, and she definitely isn’t one to swallow her past words.
She swallows and fixes his collar with a cheeky grin. “Just nice, huh?”
Zuko opens his mouth to respond when a flash goes off. Both teens turn to look at the offender, who shrugs sheepishly.
“If I didn’t get the picture now, no one would believe me,” Sokka smirks, waving his phone at them.
Katara marches up to him to look at the photo. It’s very much a candid shot, Katara’s mouth in still open in mid-sentence, but she looks happy, and although Zuko looks slightly put off by her mothering, his lips are turned upwards in a small smile that she hadn’t noticed earlier.
They look like a real couple.
“Send that to me,” she says, grabbing Zuko by the arm and tugging him out the door. “Tell dad we’re running late and I’ll take more pictures at the dance! ‘Kay bye!”
The door slams shut before Sokka can respond.
…
They arrive at the dance a little late so it is already in full swing. The decorations are cheap and corny, almost like there was a theme in mind but the execution was up to interpretation.
There's a small photo booth area by the entrance of the gym, and Katara immediately drags in towards it.
She hears him sigh, so she rounds on him and points her finger into his chest.
"Listen here, buddy. You're going to take pictures with me, and you're going to pretend like you're having fun."
Zuko just rolls his eyes.
"You signed a contract," Katara adds.
"It's written on notebook paper," he mutters, gently pushing her fingers away from his chest and pulling open the curtain to the booth. "After you."
She bends down and scoots into the booth, looking behind her to see Zuko's eyes quickly dart away, and his ears are tinged a soft pink.
Katara pats the side of the booth she isn't occupying. "I'm not going to bite you, Zuko." Strangely enough, he blushes again.
"Scoot over," he mutters, and the numbers start to countdown in the booth.
Looking at the printout, Katara has to bring her hand to her mouth. In all the photos, whether she's simply smiling or making a goofy face, Zuko has the most adorable grumpy pout on his lips, as if it's a chore to take some pictures with her.
"Burn them," he says, but she stuffs them in her clutch before he can get his grubby mitts on them.
Katara giggles again. "Oh no, it really shows off your personality. It's kind of perfect." Zuko grumbles and she pulls him into the gym.
...
The only person Katara would honestly want to talk to at the dance is Suki, but she bailed to hang out with Sokka for the night. She and Zuko go through the motions, grabbing little cupcakes and drinking punch.
"Alright, Hotman, the time has come."
"I thought I told you not to call me that," he deadpans.
Katara pouts, "Just one dance?" She bats her eyelashes at him, and sensing no resistance, pulls him onto the dance floor and into her embrace.
Zuko looks around and sighs, dropping his head to her shoulder so the left side of his face is hidden. "Everyone is staring," he whispers, his fingers dig into the skin at her waist before relaxing them. "They always stare at me."
It took Katara a moment to realize that he was referring to his scar. Gently, oh so gently, she cups his smooth cheek to raise his face to hers. She never realized how much taller he was than her until that moment, and it made her stomach flutter with butterflies. "You're more than your scar, Zuko. What happened to you was terrible, but you're not hiding from the world. You're so strong and brave." She wets her lips. "If anything, those people are ignorant, and they don't know you. I hardly notice it, honest." She raises the hand still on his shoulder and places her fingertips on the red, mottled flesh. "You're more than your scar." Katara needs to make a statement, and she needs to be bold. She presses her lips into his cheek, right where the edge of the scarred tissue met his unblemished skin. "You're still pretty cute, in my opinion."
Zuko's face immediately heats, and one of his hands touched where her kiss lingered. "T-thank you, Katara."
Katara's face is warm, but she's happy to wipe the sadness from his expression. "I should be thanking you. For coming. With me." She inwardly cringes. "Thanks for taking me to the dance, Zuko."
The song changes to a heavier ballad, most of the couples around them lose interest in the scarred teen to hold their partners closer.
With newfound confidence, Zuko intertwines one of their hands together and brings hers to his lips. He maintains eye contact and he applies the faintest pressure to them, and Katara's breath hitches in her throat.
"Thank you, Katara," he says, slowly swaying them to the beat.
...
And they danced until the lights came on.
...
She is so screwed.
...
Something between them changed after Homecoming night. Nothing bad, per se, but it's definitely strange.
Although Katara and Zuko agreed to fake date just to keep appearances up, they started to spend a lot of time together and becoming actual friends.
"So. What do you want to be when you grow up?" she asks, pushing her notes aside that she hadn't really been studying. "I honestly want to know."
Zuko pushes his notes aside as well, bringing his knees to his chest. He rubs the back of his neck, awkward and unsure. "After university? I guess I could work at my father's company."
Katara's lips twist. "Okay...but what do you want to do?"
"I just told you."
She shakes her head. "That's what your family expects you to do, not what you want to do."
Zuko sighs in response, shaking his head. "I don't know, I've never really had a choice."
Katara's eyes look towards his scar. "Zuko, they've hurt you enough. It's okay to want to do your own thing away from them."
He just shakes his head. "They're my family, Katara. I can't just abandon them."
Sensing a losing battle, she says, "I think I want to be a doctor or an active duty field medic."
The other teen is clearly surprised by her answer and grateful to have the spotlight away from him. "I can picture the doctor, but a field medic? That's kind of dangerous."
"I won't turn my back on people who need me," Katara responds easily. "Actual hospitals are a bureaucratic mess. I might be able to do more out there, ya know?"
Zuko hums, deep in thought. "Maybe, if I had the choice," he starts, "I might want to be a teacher or a mentor or something. I wouldn't be me if I didn't have any guidance from my uncle."
At this Katara beams at him. "Minus the temper, I think you would be a great teacher." Zuko scoffs and tosses a wad of paper at her. "What? I'm just being honest," she snickers.
"We have years to grow up," Zuko says, "Who knows where we'll be in even five years.
Katara taps her chin. "I suppose you're right."
Katara and Zuko are grabbing food at the mall when they have their first encounter as a "couple" with Azula and her friends.
"Oh, Zuzu!" A voice rings out across the busy food court. Zuko cringes, his shoulders knocking into his ears. "Aren't you going to say hello to your beloved baby sister." Katara nearly spits out her soda. She looks at Zuko, who has a defeated look about him.
"Let's just get this over with," he mutters, grabbing her hand and pulling her to what seems like the gallows.
"Azula."
"Zuko," the girl in questions says, her pretty ruby lips upturned in a nasty smirk. "Aren't you going to introduce us to your friend?"
The scarred teen sighs, rubbing his eyes with the hand that isn't holding Katara's. "You've already met her. More than once. She's Sokka's sister, remember?"
Azula tsks and and looks are at her sharply manicured nails. "No shit, dum dum," she says sweetly, the smirk never leaving her face. "You have yet to introduce her to me as your girlfriend." She exhales, shaking her head. "Honestly Zuzu, didn't your mother teach you any manners?" To any bystander catching a glimpse of their interaction, they would assume that Azula was a caring younger sister, interested in her brother's personal life.
But Katara knows what a snake Azula is. Zuko's grip on Katara's hand tightens. She places her cup down and soothingly rubs his forearm.
"Hi, Azula, it's so nice to see you again," she says through a smile. "What brings you to the mall today?"
The girl shrugs, looking off to the side as if in thought. "You know, a little bit of this, a little bit of that. You've met Mai, right? The girl who crushed our poor little Zuzu's heart?"
Katara can feel her spine stiffen and Zuko's hand get clammy at the mention of the quiet goth girl standing to the side. "Actually, I haven't had the opportunity to meet her." She lets go of his hand and presses a kiss to his cheek. Power move. "Hi, it's nice to meet you," she says, cheery, stretching her hand out towards the older girl.
Mai glances down at the outstretched hand with disdain. "Charmed," she replies, dry, before walking off.
"I'm Ty Lee!" is all Katara hears before she has her arms full of pink, bubbly cheerleader. "It's super nice to meet you!"
Katara is shock, awkwardly patting the other girl on the back. "You too."
Ty Lee grabs her hands and appraises her up and down. "Wow Azula! You were right! She is pretty!" For some reason, the thought of them discussing her makes her skin crawl.
"Yes, yes, well, we ought to be on our way." Azula says, turning to walk away. "Ta-ta, dear Zuzu. Enjoy your new relationship." She pauses and adds, "I truly hope it's better than the last one."
Zuko audibly grinds his teeth.
Azula smirks, almost giddy at getting a rise out of him. "Or not," she laughs, and walks off after Mai, Ty Lee is tow.
"I can't believe her," he says, looking like he wasnt to set something on fire. "Actually, this is right up her bitch alley," he mutters, turning towards Katara. "Are you okay?"
If she's being completely honest, that was one of the most bizarre meetings she's ever had, but she isn't going to let her get to her. "I'm fine, Zuko, really," she assures, "Are you?"
Zuko shakes his head. "Let's get out of here. We can grab food on the way home." He reaches for her hand again, gentle, and rubs his thumb along her knuckles. "I'm sorry, about her." Katara shrugs, leading him out of the mall.
Upon reaching his car, he pauses before opening the door for her. "Katara," he starts, and stops, turning away from her.
"What's wrong?" she asks, reaching for him. "You can talk to me. Did your sister hit a nerve?" Zuko sighs, shaking his head. His mouth opens, then closes.
"You know all those rules we made up?" At her nod he continues, "What if we stopped following a few of them?"
Katara's heartbeat starts to race. "You want to end it this soon?" She had no idea he felt like this, and her heart breaks a little at the thought.
"No!" he shouts, then cringes. "No, not that. Ugh, I'm so bad at words," he mutters. He clears his throat. "If I do something, promise not to punch me?" Before she can respond, he slides his fingers into her hair and kisses her.
Katara's lips are hard in shock, surprised that her secret feelings are reciprocated. Her mouth softens under his, and she kisses him back, arms moving to loosely wrap around his shoulders.
He presses her against the passenger door of his car, gasping into her mouth. In that moment, nothing exists but his tongue teasing her bottom lip and his hands roaming her cheeks, her neck, her hair.
She grins into his lips, tugging the short hairs at the nape of his neck. “I thought you have zero intentions of falling in love with me,” Katara says as she rubs the tip of her nose against his.
Zuko scoffs. “Who said I loved you?” His hands grip her waist and draws her in closer.
“You like like me, don’t you, Hotman?” At that, Zuko just rolled his eyes, not even bothering to hide the deep blush spreading across his cheeks.
He tilts his head and kisses her, even if only to shut her up.
“Yeah, you’re all right, Water Tribe,” he murmurs against her lips, one hand moving up to cradle her cheek.
Katara and Zuko are cuddled up on her couch, her head resting on his shoulder as he plays with her hair. Her lips are chapped from all the kissing, but she can’t find it in herself to care.
His hair is mussed, and his lips aren’t in any better shape than hers.
She doesn’t know why she didn’t want to kiss him in the beginning. Kissing Zuko might be her new favorite extracurricular activity.
“Mmm, I think I’m hungry,” Katara murmurs into his throat. “You should definitely order us some food.” She moves her hand across his stomach, enjoying every inch of very defined muscle. “I know for a fact at you’re hungry.”
His stomach growls as if on command, and his face flushes. “What are you in the mood for?”
You .
Flustered by her own thoughts, Katara says, “There’s a new Earth Kingdom place that opened up not too far from here. I think my house is close enough to have the delivery fee waived.”
He hums an affirmative and grabs his phone from the coffee table. "Here, look it up and let's look at the menu." They take a few minutes to look at the menu, with Katara unconvincingly trying to get Zuko to order something not at maximum spice so she could sneak bites off his plate.
It's incredible how fast she grew comfortable with him. They put on a movie to kill time, although they don't really watch it.
A knock at the door interrupts them, and Zuko lifts his upper body from Katara to glance at the door. "I think the food is here," he grins, and Katara thinks he looks incredible, all rumbled from her frenzied hands. He stands up to pat his pockets for his wallet, then leans down and presses his lips to hers. “I’ll be right back,” he murmurs. She hears him jogging down the hall to the front door to deal with the delivery driver.
She grabs his phone and proceeds to take a bunch of silly selfies for him to discover later.
Keying in his passcode to observe her work, she bites her lip. She knows she shouldn’t snoop through Zuko’s phone, but something compulsive inside of her demands it. She opens up his texting app and finds Mai’s conversation directly below one for her and one for Sokka.
Interesting.
She can’t help herself, so she taps the other girl’s name and snoops.
Katara hardcore snoops.
She knows she has no right to read his private conversations, but something ugly and green inside of her is threatened by their friendship. They were together for most of their high school experience, and Katara was only Sokka’s kid sister in his eyes until recently.
She even scrolls to messages before her and Zuko were a thing, when he and Mai were at the worst of their breakup.
His phone vibrates in her hands, alerting her to a new message below.
Of course she just has to read it.
Mai
I miss you
Katara squeaks and shoves the phone away as if it burned her. She didn’t know he was still texting Mai, and she definitely had no idea that he texted her with such longing.
She thinks she’s going to be sick.
After their kiss (but really, after all the kissing), she thought that this whole sham of a relationship they had going on was finally going to be legit. Her heart clenches at the thought.
Did her feelings mean nothing? Was he just stringing her along until he got who he really wanted?
That was the point of this farce, wasn't it? Make Mai jealous of his new relationship.
Somewhere along the way, between the sunny car rides and study dates, Katara allowed herself to believe that Zuko really liked her.
She feels so used and stupid and naive.
Zuko walks back into the living room looking through the bag of takeout. "I think they forgot the extra sauce, but—"
Katara stands and blocks his path, her features twisted in anger. “You’re still into your gloomy ex-girlfriend,” Katara hisses, stabbing a finger into his chest. “You-you kissed me, but you’re still talking to her! What’s wrong with you?”
Zuko grips her fingers gently and pushes them away. He reaches around her to set their meal on the coffee table. “We’re friends,” he rasps, leaning towards her. “You know that we still talk to each other. Why are you freaking out now?” He takes a step back from her, eyeing her warily.
Katara gapes a little, her hand reaching up to grip the pendant on her necklace. She admits, he has a point. She knows that he texts Mai, knows that he sees her when she’s with Azula at their father’s house.
It just makes her chest feel weird is all, a little like disappointment tinged with the sting of betrayal and envy.
She never wanted to feel this way, never wanted to feel the rage of a jealous girlfriend.
She’s not even his real girlfriend. They’re dating according to a contract written in sparkly blue gel ink on notebook paper.
Mai is the kind of girl that Zuko should end up with, and with the two of them headed to the same university next fall it seems like destiny is going to chew Katara’s heart up and spit it out.
"I saw the texts, Zuko," she grinds out. "You still want to be with Mai."
At this, his gaze went from pleading to angry. "You went through my phone? What's wrong with you? I thought—"
"You thought wrong if you thought I'd be okay being second best!"
There's a pause, the tension between them heavy.
"There's nothing going on between me and Mai," Zuko grinds out. "You should know that I'm not that kind of guy."
Katara clenches her fists, resolved in her actions even though she can hear her own heart breaking. “I’m not doing this anymore, Zuko. Get out.” Firm, absolute. He doesn’t move. “Get out! I don’t want you here!” she shouts, waving her arms at him.
Zuko scoffs and steps away from her. Before he passes her, he tilts his head down towards her. “Whatever you say, Master Katara,” he sneers, side stepping her. "Enjoy your dinner," he calls out before walking out the front door.
Katara’s hand twitches at her side from the effort of restraining herself. She wants to call him back, say she's sorry, say that she's just scared.
The door slams, and she crumbles to her knees, gasping in breaths and holding back a sob.
Sokka finds her still there on the floor hours later.
It’s been six days since her fight with Zuko. Six days of radio silence from him, although she knows that she deserved it.
Five days of waking up earlier than usual to catch the bus to school. Sokka told her that Zuko could still drop her off in the mornings if she really didn't want to take the bus, but she was stubborn and refused the offer. She did this to herself, she ought to suffer her own consequences.
Five days of making Zuko's lunch on autopilot. She still gave Sokka the extra lunches; she doesn't know if Zuko is eating them, but it's become a part of her get ready routine that she can't just stop immediately.
It takes a month to form a habit.
Twenty-four more days of this seems like a nightmare.
Needless to say, Katara is in a piss-poor mood when Jet finally manages to corner her by the track during her free period. She just wanted to go to the Sports Medicine shed and grab a less tattered textbook. She almost wishes she went to Sokka's school, where the books were renewed every other year, stupid private school brats.
"Hey, Kitty, long time no see," he smirks, rolling a sucker from one side of his mouth to the other. Her nose twitches at that stupid name that no one has called her in years.
"What do you want, Jet? I'm not in the mood right now." She tries to move around him, but he blocks the way. "Are you five years old? Move out of the way Jet."
Katara looks up into his eyes, and although his lips were smirking, his eyes were hard. "Nuh uh uh," he fishes his letter out of his back pocket, "You've avoided me for months. I just want to talk."
She sighs and resigns herself to this conversation. "I wrote that ages ago, you know."
Jet shrugs. "I figured. We haven't really talked much since middle school."
"If you knew, why have you been adamant about talking about it? I don't get it."
His eyes turn up towards the sky. "You weren't the only one with a crush back then." He nods his head at her and smiles. "Sometimes I wonder, but at the end of the day I know it was for the best." He pauses to take the sucker out of his mouth. "I did change, though. The chip on my shoulder isn't all that big anymore. Even got myself a girlfriend."
“I think we all changed,” Katara says, looking at Jet from the corner of her eye. "But Zuko and I weren't really dating."
At this, Jet's eyebrows rose. "No kidding? Looked pretty real to me."
Katara sighs. “What I had with Zuko, even though we said it was fake, was real . It was all real. I didn't think I would be into him like that—” again "—but it happened so naturally that I didn't really understand it until I lost him."
Jet sighs and leans against the next set of bleachers. “You know he’s a total prick, right?” He twirls the lollipop in his mouth. “He doesn’t deserve you.”
At that, Katara laughs without humor. “He said the same thing about you. You two would probably get along if you got your head out your ego inflated butt.”
Jet laughs genuinely. “You’re not bad, Katara, not bad at all.” He stands up and stretches. "You know I'm actually dating his younger sister."
Wait, what?
Katara chokes on air and puts her hand out to let Jet know she isn't actually dying. "I thought you were dating the pink brunette with the bangs and the long ponytail."
"Ty Lee?" Jet looks, dare she say, disgusted at the thought. "No, she's one of Azula's best friends. She's just overly friendly is all. Well, I'm pretty sure that the princess is with me just to piss off her rich daddy is some sort of weird rich girl rebellion, but I'm not mad about it."
"What do you even see in her?" Azula can easily be described as cold, scary, a teenage sociopath. Jet's face, though, softens at the mention of her, so whatever he sees in that witch must be enough for him.
"What can I say," he shrugs. "I like 'em feisty." He rocks on the heels of his feet. "Probably why the prince hates me so much. I’ll see you around, okay? Take care of yourself.”
She watches him vault over the side of the bleachers and walk away.
He raises his hand in one of his signature Cool Guy waves. "And good luck," he calls out over his shoulder, turning a corner out of her view.
Katara wishes she was that sure of herself.
Jet and Azula, though? She supposes stranger things have happened.
It’s been two weeks since she last spoke to Zuko. It’s almost all her fault, although he said a few harsh words back at her. They weren’t untrue or anything, but it still hurt.
She wishes there was a class on high school romance with a section that went over what a person should do when they start to fall for their fake significant other. Katara would kill to have notes on that right now.
She stomps into her room and collapses face first into her bed.
"You okay?" she hears Sokka say, and she turns her head to her doorway, seeing her older brother munching away on an apple. "You wanna talk about it?"
Katara groans and rolls onto her back. "You probably know Zuko and I broke up."
Sokka moves into her room, taking a seat at her desk. "He may have mentioned it to me."
"And what did he say?"
Her brother quickly shook his head. "No no no, I'm not getting in the middle of whatever you two have going on. Absolutely not my business."
"Traitor," Katara grumbles, throwing an arm over her face. "I thought you were my inside man."
Sokka scoffs. "I never agreed to that." At Katara's grunt in response he looks down with an extremely guilty expression. "So, I may have done a thing."
Katara groans, "Oh god, what did you do this time?"
"I may have sent the letters out to all of those jerks you used to have a thing for," he says in a rush. "Whew, glad to finally get that off my chest," he says before trying to quickly vacate the room.
Katara's rage makes her faster.
"You did what?" she screeches as she flies off the bed, and Sokka has to drop his apple to fend off the flailing limbs of his sister. "Why would you ever do something so stupid and boneheaded?"
"Why would you be the stupid one to put stamps on the letters in the first place? I was trying to help you!" he says earnestly. "I didn't even read them first, because I respect your privacy."
"Hardy har, did Suki tell you to say that?" she asks sardonically, crossing her arms.
Sokka doesn't look impressed. "Very funny. You've had all these weird hang ups with people, I was just trying to help you clear the air a little, maybe make amends or, god forbid, a new friend."
Well, shit. He did seem to have her best interests at heart, even though he kind of failed at it.
Defeated, she moved back to sit on her bed. She patted the space next to her. She doesn't start speaking until her sits. "Remember that therapist I saw when we were kids?" Sokka nods at her to continue. "Well, she told me to write my feelings down so I won't bottle everything up. And I guess I was so scared of loss that I didn't want to get close to someone who won't be here forever, you know?"
"Katara—"
"Don't interrupt me, Sokka! I need to get this off my chest." She sighs. "I met a kid at summer camp that year, and I knew we were probably never going to see each other again, so I wrote a letter to him and ended up never sending it." She plays with her fingers in her lap. "It was so, I don't know, cathartic to get all of that off my chest. Sometimes I would read them just to experience those early memories of love."
Sokka nods, then blanches. "You wrote Zuko, our painfully awkward Zuko a love letter?" He looks deep in thought. "How did that even happen?"
Katara sighs, the memories of that beautiful sunny day at the natural springs rushing back to her. "We had a moment," she whispers, thick with melancholy. "We had a moment, but he was dating Mai, so I had to get over it."
Her brother whistles. "Damn, sis, that's rough. It'll be okay though, if you both get your heads out of your asses and do something about it."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean," Sokka says, standing up. "Zuko wasn't this banged up about Mai when they broke up, and they were together for almost three years."
"Mai has the personality of a toad," Katara grumbles, and Sokka laughs.
"Yeah maybe, but that's still a long time to be together." He lets his words sink in. "All I'm saying is, you are both pretty stubborn, but don't miss out on something that might be great because you're both too pigheaded to make up."
Her eyes get a little misty, and she grins at her brother. "Oh Sokka, that might be the most helpful thing you've said to me."
Sokka nods and pats her knee, walking out her door and towards his own room, apple in hand.
...
He catches on to her insult after she closes her door and locks it.
...
The original letter that Katara had written to a crush was when she was almost eleven and at her first sleepaway camp. Aang was a sweet little guy, and Katara’s young heart couldn’t handle it when he presented her a flower crown that he braided in arts and crafts.
Camp only lasted three and a half weeks, but her heart felt so full. Instead of crying every time she thought about the end of summer, she stayed up one night with a flashlight under her blanket to pour every ounce of her feelings out on paper. When the time came to leave camp, Katara can honestly say that she was okay hugging him goodbye for the last time.
She didn’t know where he lived, so she addressed his letter to the camp, which explains why it was currently resting in her hands with a large RETURN TO SENDER stamp on it. The camp closed two summers ago due to low enrollment, which was devastating. Katara had a small dream of becoming a counselor there the summer before she would go to college.
Even though they were children, Aang was so full of life, especially at a time when she was still grieving her mother. It was hard not to get pulled into the younger boy's warmth and love. Aang didn't hold anything back, that kid was brave and wasn't afraid to show his heart on his sleeve.
She laughs to herself, rubbing the edge of the old envelope. Ten-year old Katara would be disappointed in herself. There isn’t a point in expressing her feelings if she’s the only one who will understand said feelings.
Katara shared thoughts and dreams and hopes with Zuko that she’d never even told Sokka. Zuko, even with all his teen angst, listened to her and didn’t tell her she was being dramatic. He told her his own stories, and she learned so much more about him and endeared him so much to him.
Honestly, who would have guessed that she would actually fall for her fake boyfriend?
She moves towards her desk and pulls out a worn box from the middle drawer. Katara writes with a vengeance; this is one letter that she intends on sending.
Katara looks down at her phone to check the time. If Sokka's intel was right, Zuko would have about an hour left of work at this point. Her wallpaper is still the picture that Sokka took of them before heading out to her Homecoming dance; she never had the heart to change it, holding out hope they would reconcile.
She marches into the Jasmine Dragon Teashop, floral stationary tightly clenched between her thumb and forefinger. Zuko’s back is to her, but Iroh immediately makes eye contact with her.
“Good afternoon, Katara. What brings you in today?” He grins at her, but her focus is trained on his nephew.
She's sure that he's aware of whatever happened between herself and Zuko; Sokka had mentioned that the scarred teen was angstier than usual, which is saying a lot.
She can't lose her nerve, though. Not when she's feeling this brave and confident.
“Iroh, I would like to make a statement.” She says, confident in her stance. “But, um, only if you’re okay with it. Sir.” She smiles nervously at Iroh.
He nods, bowing his head. “As you were.”
Katara sucks in a deep breath and lifts the paper to her face. Zuko starts to turn around. “Oh my gosh, what are you doing! Turn around!” He freezes and awkwardly shifts away from her. “Sorry.” She laughs a little.
“Dear Zuko. I miss you. It’s only been two and a half weeks, but I feel like it’s been two and a half years . I know we had our problems, but I feel like I could just talk to you about anything. I don’t know who I’ll talk to if I can’t talk to you. Even though you’re a grumpy hipster emo, you were my grumpy hipster emo. I liked who I was when I was fake with you, and now I really want to be real with you. Like I am now. You were my—”
“Katara, please stop,” Zuko interrupts, and he’s walking around the counter, reaching for her. His face is bright red, but he looks so sure of himself in that moment as she gravitates towards him. His palms find her hips easily like they were meant to be there and his fingers inch towards her back. “Hey,” he breathes into her hair, and her arms reach up and clutch at his shoulders and her fingers dig into the soft fabric covering his back.
“I’m sorry,” she blurts out.
Zuko sighs. “Me too.”
“I didn’t mean it.”
“It’s okay if you did.” She can feel him awkwardly shuffling.
“No, it’s not. You didn’t deserve it, and I’m sorry for saying that,” she says, holding him tighter.
“I forgive you.” He tugs on the end of her braid. “Are we okay?”
She smiles. “Yeah, we’re okay.”
“Are you my real girlfriend?” he asks, lips quirking up in a small smile.
Katara looks up in fake thought, tapping her finger against her chin. “Depends. We’d need a new contract,” she whispers with a grin. “First rule, kissing is totally on the table.”
Zuko rolls his eyes and cocks his head. “And what if I don’t agree to your new terms?”
Katara looks mock offended. “And what’s wrong with kissing me?” It's the same conversation they had in the beginning, and it's incredible how much has changed between them in less than three months.
He cups her face. “Nothing.” His lips press to hers, chastely, and she wants to melt . His uncle is standing less than ten feet away from them, so she knows that this isn’t going to be the last time they kissed today.
Just for now.
“You were wrong,” she says when they pull away, loosely in each other’s arms.
Zuko raises his one eyebrow. “About what?”
“You totally fell in love with me.” He laughs and spins her around, squeezing her close to his body. Iroh and the few other patrons in the shop start to clap and hoot.
He smirks as he sets her down, “You loved me first.” His face is flushed, but Katara doesn’t think she’s ever seen him happier.
Zuko isn’t lying, though. He’s pretty much had her heart for the last year and a half.
“And you could’ve texted me instead of doing all this.” He gestures around the tea shop. “I’m pretty sure my uncle was recording it.”
“So what?” Katara takes a step back and puts her hands on her hips.
Zuko reaches for her wrist and pulls her back into his embrace. His cheeks are still flushed, and she knows he hates the attention he’d gotten from the old people in the tea shop after she showed up. “It’s embarrassing,” he says, and the tips of his ears turn pink. Katara tenses up, and he sags against her. “I’m sorry, I just really like you,” he breathes into her hair. “You’re completely worth my uncle’s embarrassment.”
She hums against his chest. “Do you still want to go to the beach house?” he murmurs into her hair.
Katara nods her head enthusiastically. “Wouldn’t miss it.” She tucks her head under his chin.
She thinks she wants to keep this feeling close to her heart, not on a sheet of paper.
...
Dear Katara ,
You fucking nailed it girl. Smooth as a rock. Younger Katara would be proud.
Love you always,
Katara
...
fin.