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Summary
“Why… You told them we were together.” It’s more of an accusation than he means it to be, but Sokka doesn’t waver.
“Do you normally kiss strangers and then just act like friends?” And he’s so fucking nonchalant that Zuko doesn’t know how to respond.
“No?”
“Well then,” Sokka laughs a little under his breath, hands over another polaroid but Zuko’s too busy staring at him to look at it. “I guess you’re my festival boyfriend, Zu. If that’s alright with you.”
Another picture is added to his hand, and Zuko asks, “But what does that mean?”
