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It started after narrowly escaping Azula at the Western Air Temple - you watched helplessly as Zuko slipped off the airship and disappeared. Your heart jumped into your throat as you mourned what you thought was the death of your new friend. The relief you felt when you saw him rising once again upon another airship was almost enough to make you faint.
And then he fell again. Aang managed to catch him with Appa, however, and you’d had about enough of this emotional rollercoaster. You lunged at Zuko, capturing him in a tight hug, and punched his shoulder. “Don’t you ever fucking do that again.” You whimpered.
His arms wound around your waist and he squeezed you until you gasped. The last thing he saw of you was you being knocked off the edge of the temple’s platform, unaware that you had landed heavily (but safely) on a rock jutting out below. Your knees and palms had been skinned. “I thought I lost you.” He mumbled into your shoulder.
You weren’t sure if his statement was a response to yours, that he had become reckless at the thought that you were dead, or if he was just voicing his thought to justify the hug. But you suddenly felt bad for cursing at him and began to stroke his hair. He nuzzled your neck for a moment, revelling in the feeling of being in your arms with your fingers in his hair, when he quickly pulled away and glanced at the rest of the group. He felt as though he had made himself more vulnerable to more people than he’d like at once and was pleasantly surprised to find that no one was gawking at him for the sudden intimacy. Suki was fussing with Sokka, trying to assess his injuries. Katara was trying to calm a hollering Momo as Toph clung to her arm.
Later, at Ember Island, Zuko had a nightmare involving your demise. He woke up in a cold sweat, panicked, and burst into your room. You woke with a start and quickly sat up to see who had intruded to find Zuko staring wide-eyed at you.
“Zuko, what’s wrong?” You began to move from your bed, suspecting that your hideout had been once again compromised.
He let out a breath and sighed, his hand coming to his forehead. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. I had a nightmare where you died.”
“C’mere,” You said, patting the bed next to you, “Are you okay?”
He shuffled over to you and you let him drop his head into your shoulder. You gently ran your fingers through his hair. “I am now.”
Nights like this weren’t uncommon. Zuko would lay on your chest and let you play with his hair. Sometimes you’d scratch his scalp and he’d groan.
On nights where he had awoken from a nightmare, you’d sing quietly to try and lull him back to sleep.
“Black is the color of my true love’s hair.” You’d begin, twirling your fingers in his dark locks.
“His lips, a wondrous affair.” You’d feel his breathing level out, his heartbeat slowing from its rapid, fear-driven pace.
“He has the brightest eyes and the strongest hands and I love the ground on which he stands.” Sometimes he’d take one of your hands in his and stroke your palm with his thumb.
“My baby knows I love him so and the ground on which he goes.” You seldom had to repeat the chorus again. You running your fingers down his scalp was enough to ground him.
Occasionally, after a tiring training session with Aang, he’d loosely wrap his arms around you and attempt to get you to cradle his head and ease his rushing adrenaline. He would always be sweaty, however, and you’d push him back as you giggled about how he needs to take a bath before trying to cuddle you.
The rest of the Gaang didn’t know what to make of you. Often, Zuko would try to pull away from you if he had gotten too comfortable in your arms in front of others. He especially didn’t want anyone to know his weakness for your hands in his hair. He would eventually ease up, and face the fact that yes, he was kind of in love with you. And you loved him back just as much.