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And so he fell, deeply into the abyss of her startlingly bright, vivid, marine-inspired eyes. Wallowed in her face: features a mountainside for exploration– skin a depth for cultivation in lifelike dreams. Tripped into her smile, enchanting, loud, fantastic. It all really began with a push. Laughter, belching contests. Chemistry. Compatibility. Sparks, flowers, sunsets, dawns, infatuation. There, Bolin dangled: clinging dreamlike to her pinky.
Accidental. Fresh, grassy eyes seen only in friendship. Solid body sparring, belching, alongside her's viewed and captivated only in companionship. The admiration reflected off his being like a vise, restraining, choking. Stifled.
Selfishness. Borrowing lips without permission, she claimed her prize. Her consolation for the weight atop her curse. Rebirth, death, rebirth and death. Again and again and again. Crushing boulders crunching and creaking scapulae, responsibility and duty. Unfair, justice blind, deaf, and half-dead. Compelled to isolation, released on a whim: training and training– legacies leering, laughing at her progress, mocking her resolve. Peoples, depending and waiting. Whining and whining, useless without The Avatar, helpless without The Avatar. Pressure building, compacting, engorging boulders.
Pausing, resting, relishing: the avatar took a break. Seeking, she stole a kiss. Inadvertently, a heart shattered amid dual-pronged betrayal.