The Fire Nation Prince Zuko sighed, leaning his forearms against the railing of the balcony just off his sleeping chambers. He couldn't sleep that night, or others before this night. Every night it was the same thing that haunted his dreams and woke him, those big, almost glowing, ocean blue eyes looking hurt, and full of sorrow staring back at him.
Zuko knew who those beautiful eyes belonged to, the Avatar's friend, and waterbending teacher, Katara. He couldn't stop thinking of those fateful moments back in those crystal catacombs of Ba-Sing-Se.
He had earned Katara's trust, despite all he had done to her, her brother, and her friends. He'd chased them around the world, burnt down nearly every town that he had found them in, and he'd even tied her up to a tree and blackmailed her with her late mother's necklace. Yet, she still gave him another chance.
And when it came to the moment of truth, his crossroads of destiny, he made his choice and betrayed her. He went with his sister Azula and attacked the Avatar. Those mournful and hurt azure eyes that had turned to him after that had troubled him ever since. He could not go a day, or even an hour, without finding those glowing orbs in the forefront of his mind, each and every time making his heart drop into his stomach.
He just couldn't take that anymore. He looked up to the full moon on that warm cloudless night and released a long-suffering sigh. Tearing his eyes away from the star-speckled sky, he strode his way into his chambers and lit a candle at his desk with a small exhale. Pulling open a red-lacquered drawer, he tore all of the contents of the drawer and threw them to the ground, not caring that unopened bottles of ink crashed to the floor, leaving a dark stain.
When there was nothing left in the drawer, he reached in and flipped a small latch on the bottom, revealing a secret compartment. Inside were messy and excessive notes on a plan to fix his greatest mistake. Within a week of committing his mistake and returning to his posh and pampered life as Prince, he'd realized he had made the wrong choice. He stole away from the palace to the cell of his Uncle as often as he could, asking for council. Though he barely got anything more than his Uncle's confusingly metaphorical advise, he spent much time just sitting in his Uncle's company and talking his own thoughts and ideas aloud. His Uncle usually stayed silent.
Ignoring the pang lacing through his already-aching heart at the thought of his Uncle's behavior, he set the notes down and pulled a sheet of paper from the ground. Picking up a brush, he began refining and editing his plans, obsessively and single mindedly concentrated on this one task.
As he was deciding between procuring a small war balloon and stealing away in a cargo ship to escape the city, another thought came into his mind that tore at his heart. As soon as he returned to the capitol with Azula, he had resumed his courtship with Mai. The relationship with the stoic and emotionless girl was a complete mockery. He had no desire to court her when he came back, as his childhood crush had faded away long ago, and had only done so at the subtle urging of his sister and father, that he knew had an underlying threat if he didn't do what they 'suggested'.
Of course he had acted as the overprotective and doting boyfriend because that was what was expected from him. Each display of affection was carefully calculated, executed, and then judged whether or not it was good enough by his ever-present sister, who would then report to his father. Zuko felt rotten. It was lie after lie. And Mai, he knew, deserved better than someone who didn't truly love her, lied, and forced every kiss they shared.
Those eyes flashed through his mind again, and he was reminded of his time back in the catacombs, of the easy conversing between that Water Tribe girl he barely knew and himself. It had been so easy to tell her of his own mother when she told him of hers. Nothing was ever forced or calculated. In fact, he hadn't really registered that he told her of the painful secret of his mother until Katara had looked at him with those compassionate eyes.
In those few minutes, or hours, she showed him more kindness than anyone had shown him in years, other than his Uncle Iroh. She had even offered to heal his scar with sacred water, having trusted him enough in that short time to do such a thing. He was about to reply, but the Avatar burst through the wall with his Uncle Iroh. Katara ran to the Avatar and embraced him, checking for any injuries like a mothering bear-hen.
Pulling himself out of those thoughts with a forceful shake of his head, he returned to planning his escape, and his way of getting closer to that easy and comforting interaction with Katara. He woke late the next morning to one of the servants knocking on the door. Sitting up, those oceanic eyes flashed again, and he wished, not for the last time, that he could see them once again without the sadness and betrayal in them.