Work Text:
The lamps flicker above her head, swaying in the soft summer night breeze. Around her, the wooden faces are colorful and wild; no one knows whose eyes are underneath the masks, and no one wants to.
Large hands snake around her waist, and Katara turns around to see him. His mask is a plain blue piece that covers the upper part of his face, its simplicity itself a disguise. On his lips, a smirk she would know anywhere: a strange mix of smug and shy that gives her butterflies.
Here, everyone is hiding and they are free.
She kisses him.