Work Text:
It was snowing outside. Little white dots were flowing through the air, gently lowering to the ground to add to the thick layer already coating—
Everything. Literally everything. And you hated it. Snow was evil. The cold was evil. Whoever thought winter was a good season?
The breath you huffed out curled in the air as you blinked heavily, raising a hand to wipe at the snowflake stuck in your eyelashes.
You welcomed the warm air greeting you as you finally entered the small grocery store. Not wanting to waste any time, you quickly located the items your mother had wanted you to get and went for the register.
The guy sitting there—the only other guy who was with you in the store and apparently the only (poor) guy who had to work here one day before Christmas—looked up from his phone and sat up a little straighter from where he was slouching over the counter. He had an unusual hair style, with his hair pulled back into a short ponytail and the sides shorn.
“Hey!” he greeted, a huge grin on his face that seemed entirely too sincere for someone working in retail. It was nice, though, and the least you could do was give a friendly smile back.
You thanked him when he gave you your bag with your groceries, wished a “Merry Christmas” and steeled yourself for the (admittedly short five minute what with the tiny town you were living in) walk home.
Your mother was in the kitchen when you entered the house. With the grocery bag dangling off your right hand, you toed off your shoes and ventured further in the room to set down said bag before peeling out of your winter coat.
“Ah, you’re back,” your mother said, snatching the grocery bag from the table to rummage through its content. “Did you get everything?”
“Everything you put on the list,” you answered from the hallway where you were putting away your scarf.
“Was cream on that list?”
“No.”
“Would you mind going to the store again?”
You shot your mother a look. “Kinda.”
“I’m sorry, dear, but the guests are coming soon and I still need to finish the food.”
“What about Dad? Shouldn’t he be back soon?”
“Not soon enough, he’s still picking up your uncle from the airport.” Your mother clasped her hands in front of her chest. “Please, honey? You’ll do me a huge favor.”
“Fine.” You sighed. “Call me should you need anything else.”
“I will, dear, thank you!”
So you donned your winter gear once again and braced yourself for the snowy outside world.
The store guy did a double take when he saw you entering the store again. The smile on his face was as genuine as before when you put the cream you needed to purchase on the counter.
Now you took the time to glance at the name tag pinned to his shirt.
“Forgot this?” Sokka asked when he scanned the item.
“Yeah, no, more like my mom forgot to put it on the list.”
“Ah.” he nodded, and put the cream into the bag you brought back with yourself. You handed him the money.
“Your mom cooking big today?”
“Yes, whole family is invited for a Christmas party my mother insisted on throwing.”
Your disdain must have been showing on your face, because the guy chuckled as he handed you your cream and change.
“Not a fan, then, of parties?” Sokka asked, watching you intently. His intense blue eyes were truly intriguing.
“Not really.” You shrugged your shoulders. “Not a big fan of Christmas, to be honest.”
“Oh? Why not?”
“Ah, well, my family can be kind of obnoxious? Especially during big gatherings like this and it’s just plain exhausting.” You took your bag. “Sorry, probably seems like high whining to someone who has to work so shortly before Christmas.”
“It’s alright! Not everyone’s cut out for the whole Christmas shebang.”
“You seem like someone who would love a big Christmas party,” you said, a small smile on your face.
“Hm, I guess.” He smiled back. “Wanna switch places?”
“Seriously? I’d love to. But I don’t think my mom would be too happy about it.”
“You’ll get through it. It’s just one day, right?”
You nodded. “Some of my family members stay until tomorrow but I guess I’ll just hide in my room until I have to say goodbye.”
A crooked grin with a little hint of mischief blossomed on Sokka’s face. “You can always hide here if you want. I promise we won’t starve.”
You chuckled. “Maybe I will take you up on that offer.”
Your mother was waiting for you behind the door with a guilty expression on her face.
“Oh my god, what is it?”
“I may have just run out of sugar?”
“Mom,” you dragged out the word. “What did I tell you about calling me?”
“I already saw you coming down the street when I noticed! I’m so sorry! But you knor your grandma needs some sugar with her tea.”
You groaned, still you asked. “Anything else?”
“I don’t think so.” She clasped her hands in front of her chest and smiled at you. “Thank you, my dear. I promise this is the last time!”
“I do hope so,” you said, this time leaving the house without even fully entering it.
It had stopped snowing by now, which was a small improvement, as the cold was still biting at the skin of your face.
You entered the same store for the third time in less than an hour about ten minutes later.
Sokka was still behind the counter, once again scrolling on his phone. He didn’t look up this time.
Finding the sugar took less than a minute and when you approached the counter he set down the phone to the side.
Sokka’s eyes widened when he recognized you again.
“Hey,” he drawled. “You come here often?”
You stared at him. Then snorted, covering up your mouth at the embarrassing sound leaving you.
“It sure is more often than I originally planned to.”
Sokka chuckled warmly as he scanned your sugar. The pack was back to standing on the counter between the two of you.
“The company is … agreeable,” you said, which had him barking out a laugh.
“Is that supposed to be a compliment?”
Heat rushed to your face. “I mean, yes? I, uh, I didn’t intend for it to be an insult at least.”
That big grin was back and his eyes were sparkling. “Then thank you. I guess.”
You hastily fumbled out the money for the sugar, not daring yourself to return the gaze directed at you. “Sorry. That was awkward. I’m not really good at—”
“Flirting?”
Your mouth hung open for a second, heat burning in your cheeks. “I rather had thought of the words ‘small talk.’”
“Are you opposed to flirting, then?”
The coins you were holding nearly slipped from your fingers as your hand jerked to a halt hovering over the counter. This time you briefly locked gaze with the man in front of you. Mischief glistened in those eyes that had your heart beating a little bit faster.
“I—I don’t … think so.”
Instead of an answer, Sokka held out his own hand to accept the money. He was grinning again, and it seemed both your hands lingered against each other a little longer than strictly necessary.
“Here you go, sugar,” he said, winking, honest to god winking, the pet name leaving his lips like it was nothing. He handed you your change and put the receipt into the bag beside your pack of sugar.
“Was that intentional?” you asked, words laced with laughter.
“Maybe.” Sokka shrugged his shoulders, looking smug. “Maybe I thought a sweet name like that suited a sweet face like yours.”
You shook your head. “You’re ridiculous.”
“In a good way, right?”
“I certainly wouldn’t mind having to come here again today.” You grinned and reached for your bag on the counter. “Merry Christmas, Sokka.”
“Merry Christmas, sugar.”
Only three-quarters of an hour left until the end of the shift.
This work day had been rather uneventful for Sokka, with only a few customers and nothing really entertaining on his phone—up until the point he saw you coming into the store for a second and, following soon after, a third time.
He had looked at you and knew that he would like you, and you really made it easy for him.
For the last few hours of his shift, he had hoped for the Christmas Miracle of you coming into the store for a fourth time, but as for now he had had no luck. Now work was coming to an end slowly but surely, and he should start closing up the store soon.
Sokka would be alone this Christmas; his only flight home had been canceled just a week ago and another flight hadn’t been available. This was the first Christmas he wouldn’t spend with his family, with Toph, and Aang, and Zuko in a long, long time.
But it wasn’t as bad as he had thought in the beginning. Gran-Gran had sent him a ton of her baked goods that would last him well into the new year, and his friends and family sent him the presents for him as he had sent them theirs.
(Toph’s present was dubiously shaped and looked like she wrapped it herself—he already loved it without even knowing what was inside.)
He knew that there would be a lengthy, chaotic video call on Christmas Morning. He knew that he was alone only in the physical sense this Christmas. Still, he dreaded the moment where everything would turn glum because it wasn’t like he wished it all to be.
Sokka wasn’t sure how much of the end of his shift he wallowed in self-pity, but he was dragged out of his slump when he heard someone enter the store for the probably last time today.
The smile on your face was a little bit hesitant when you walked up to him to set down a small food container on the counter.
“Hey, Sokka.”
“Hey, sugar.”
Again, you let out that cute snort he was already fond of when he uttered his pet name for you.
“Your parent’s Christmas party already that bad?”
You sighed dramatically, rolling your eyes. “You have no idea. My cousins are being loud non-stop, my nephew recently learned to throw his food, and my Grandma keeps giving me 'advice’ about cooking because she keeps finding 'mistakes’ in the food my mom prepared.
"Which is perfectly fine, by the way. The food, I mean. So, I thought I could bring you some.”
Sokka accepted the container you pushed further into his direction with your fingertips, carefully opening the latches to pull of the lid.
The delicious scent of meat filled his nostrils and made his mouth water, reminding him that his lunch break had been hours ago.
He didn’t know what kind of meat it was, but it looked like pork, tender enough to fall apart with the slightest of force, lying upon mashed potatoes that looked wonderfully creamy.
“There are also some baby carrots under the potatoes,” you explained. “My mom always roasts them a little bit and they’re delicious.”
Sokka smiled, this one different from the ones you had seen before throughout your afternoon. It was soft, laced with something that seemed bittersweet.
“That’s really nice,” he said, voice dangerously close to wobbling, but Sokka managed to keep it steady. “I … appreciate it, really, but why?”
Your expression turned flustered. “Ah, well, it was a nice excuse getting away from the party. And I thought food is always good? And I, uh, kinda like seeing you, got the impression you might like some company, too.”
“The company is,” Sokka flashed a smirk, “certainly agreeable.”
You laughed. “I’m glad you think so.”
Sokka closed the food container again for now, returning the gaze you had trained on him.
“So, what do you think about self-made cookies to return the favor? My Gran-Gran made them and they’re really good.”
Your eyes twinkled. “I’d love some.”