The Taste of Secrets
I'll never, never tell. I don't want this lovely delusion to end. Somehow I keep telling myself it's okay even though even a toddler, through trial and error, could see I was never meant to hold his hand in mine. The yes and no of my head aside, my heart is like a yellow butterfly, bruising my ribs as it tries to escape my chest. I can't breathe, but it's okay because his lips are softly touching mine, feeding me a kind of oxygen I don't breathe. My toes are aching from standing on them for so long.
His hands touch my shoulders, pushing us gently apart. I can see a crouching tiger behind his sulfuric eyes; behind his ravaged face. Something hurts when I see it. That butterfly inside settles and changes color.
"What are we doing, Katara?" he asks.
I shake my head, not sure what answer he wants to hear to the wrong question. "Rebelling? Disobeying? I don't know, Zuko."
Instead of saying words I don't want to hear, he finds my braid and fingers the soft tip. He's good at dancing around elephants. Zuko's tendency to chew on every given thought was always something that unnerved me, but I told myself it was because of the years I had spent with my brother, who never chewed anything, not even food.
"I've done it before, you know." I said.
He put his forehead against mine. "Mnn?" I felt my cheeks turning pink. As I try to fight it I nibble my lip, but his proximity is a challenge.
"Disobeying, I—I mean. Like, with Master Paku, I—" Zuko broke my chain of jargon with a sweet kiss.
"I'm not afraid of going against the grain. When I'm fire lord, things will be different, Katara. I'll defeat my father, I'll defeat Aang-"
A slight grimace twisted my lips in an uncomfortable knot. "We said we wouldn't talk about those things, remember?" I gently remind him.
Zuko exhales in a lengthy sigh. "We have to think ahead, Katara. What's going to happen in the future?"
I put my hand on the left side of his face, shaping it around the soft curve of his cheek. "Can't we be here now, Zuko? I think this is a pretty good place to be now." Maybe he saw something in the azure of my eyes. Whatever change transpired, he surrenders to my guiles, taming his apprehensions.
"It's fun to play with fire." I added, but he didn't think it was funny. I rose on tip-toes again and kissed his nose. "If you're going to be a sourpuss I'll have to leave."
"Please don't."
"Why not?"
Zuko reaches out and grabs my arm. That butterfly jumps up and starts again, but there is complete trust as he pulls me against him. The familiar tang of cinnamon is like a blanket. I suddenly felt heavy and tired, but at peace. His arms are strong and protective around my body, holding me close to him and away from the nightmares that serve as our reality.
"Because nothing else matters when I'm with you." He says in an obvious cliché he stole from a romantic haiku. However, I don't care, because it's sweet.
As I try to follow the rosy red path of sweet nothings that Zuko was paving for us, the butterfly cries tears, reminding me that he thinks of our future while I profess to refute such things. I know that Zuko thinks of the minutes and months ahead, perhaps even years, and I smile to think that he wants to share them with me. However, I have to remember the people who might have to die to make this dream of Zuko's into a reality. People like Aang, my father, and maybe even my brother. I swallow and it feels like gravel.
"I should go, Zuko."
"Why?" He asks, pulling me closer. "I like this."
Aang was going to be awake soon. "I—I need to do something, for tomorrow." I didn't want him to see that I was gone, but I didn't want Zuko to know that I was trying to protect Aang, jealous as he tended to be.
Zuko looked as though he was about to ask me what was so pressing that I would leave him in the stark of night. So I said, "Zuko, you should know better than to ask a girl to give away her secrets." I playfully lower my voice to be sarcastically ominous. "If I did, I might just have to kill you."
"Ha," he scoffed. "I might not mind that."
With a soft smile I give him a last kiss and a whisper, "Dream of me tonight, okay?"
Taking my hand in his, he gives it a final squeeze, leaving something caught in my fingers. "Never a hard thing to do. Goodnight, Katara."
As he vanishes into the shadows, I rub my fingers together, feeling a torn piece of parchment between my fingers. The scenes change but the ending is consistent. Our secret moments kept by the stars we wish upon. As he leaves by the wisps of moonlight, I am left with a hole in my chest large enough for my butterfly to see freedom and Zuko's riddle of a map to our next meeting place in my hand. Somehow, I wouldn't have it any other way.