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She’s curled against his side, listening to the consistent beat of his heart as she tries to steady her own. Her palms sweat as he presses his lips to her forehead, and her breath escapes her in a shaky exhale. He’s patient, his fingers sliding up and down her back, gently tugging on her loose curls, and her grip on his shirts tightens.
This thing they have is fragile, barely even there, and if she tells him it may just all fall apart.
It isn’t like she’s trying to trap him, because she’s not; Zuko has dreams, aspirations, and she doesn’t want the one peace of mind he has (going to college) shattered over something that shouldn’t have happened. She hasn’t seen the teen this content since she met him after he moved in with his uncle a year and a half ago.
And she’s about to ruin that.
“Zuko,” she whispers, and she tries to keep the tears out of her voice but his grip on her tightens, body tensing. “We have to talk.”
“About what,” his voice is hoarse, fingers dig into the soft cotton of her hoodie. He pulls away, aged honey clashing with teary eyed cobalt, and his lips part in a soft ‘o.’ “What’s wrong? Did something happen?” His eyes scan her clothed form for any sign of distress. He pauses on her lower abdomen before shaking his head and focusing his gaze on her face.
She ducks her head down, shakes her head. He doesn’t want a baby, doesn’t need this stress, probably won’t even believe her if she says it. “No, no technically I’m fine. But...if I tell you something bad, can you forgive me?”
His hair obscures his eyes but he nods his head, lips pursed. “Just...just tell me what’s wrong.” His hands rest on her elbows, fingers rub soothing circles in the fabric.
“Zuko..I’m pregnant, a-and I know this is terrible timing and we’re too young for this and-”
“You’re pregnant?” his voice cuts through, and her eyes water, fingers bite into his thin shirt. “B-but we were safe, I know I put one on, how could this happen?” His voice is a hoarse whisper as he pulls away from her to sit up, put his face in his hands.
Katara’s lips twist into a scowl as she sits up. “Something just went wrong. But that’s okay, right? We can-”
“Are you keeping it?”
Her eyes flick up to him, his words muffled by his hands. “What?”
“Are you going to...are you going to keep the baby?”
Katara’s hands curl into his sheets, brows furrow in irritation. “Yeah, I heard you the first time you said it. How can you even ask me that? You know that-”
“Know what, Katara? What? That I want to be a father at seventeen? That I don’t want to go to college and do something with my life? That I don’t want to have to go crawling back to my father because I fucked another thing up in my life? Fuck, Katara, we aren’t even dating!”
She listens to him, lips pursed. “We fucked up, Zuko. Us. As in me and you. And how dare you even ask me if I wanted to keep my baby, our baby? You know how much family means to me! Before you say anything,” she grits out, eyes narrowing dangerously, “I don’t care about your daddy issues right now.”
“Katara,” he starts, golden eyes glinting in anger, “Don’t you even go there. You know-”
“I just wanted to let you fucking know before somebody else told you. You know what? I shouldn’t have even said anything to you!” She scoots off the bed and tugs her shoes on. “I can’t talk to you when you’re like this.”
“Don’t you think I have the right to know?”
Her gaze is cold when she looks back at him. “Congrats, now you know.” She storms off but stops when she hears him speaking quietly.
“I never said that I didn’t want to be there. I’m just not ready for this, but I am ready for you.”
And the floodgates break.