This was inspired by a dream I had a few days ago, and now can't entirely remember (crap). But I do remember the one line that kept going over in my head: It felt like melting and drowning and floating. And…this happened :)


Kissing could only be described by the word "indescribable".

Because that was the only word Katara's mind could come up with.

How could you compare the feel, the heat, of someone's lips against yours?

What could possibly fit the sensation that came from being so close to someone you really cared for?

She wondered if there was something wrong with her; generations of poets and girls had preached about the wonders of kissing and being in love, but none of that applied to her own experience. Provided she didn't have much experience to speak of. Most of the kisses she'd gotten or given had been rushed, quick moments, when no one was watching closely.

Because how could they possibly tell the others and expect them to relate? She knew what everyone's reactions would be if Aang and she were to tell them their feelings for each other.

Toph would tease them into oblivion.

Suki would never be able to have a serious conversation with her; there would be constant devious smiles and winks in Aang's direction.

Mai would make dry remarks and roll her eyes, and complain they were being too gushy.

Zuko would laugh his head off.

Sokka would dismember Aang on the spot.

So they kept it to themselves, at least for now. The only romantic hints they exchanged around others were brief brushes of lips on cheek, blushed smiles, or grasped hands behind their backs. It was almost fun, keeping it a secret. All the more fun for the others to discover later, that they'd been fooled for years.

But cheek-kisses, while sweet, were never entirely satisfying. The kisses Katara lived for but could never pin an adjective to took place when they found themselves alone, with no prospect of being harassed or discovered. These kisses were soft and deep, and made her feel entirely overwhelmed.

It felt like melting (he was so warm) and drowning (she couldn't breathe) and floating (but his arms held her in place).

And these kisses were followed by soft whispers, breath in her mouth and in her ears and invading her thoughts.

"I love you."

More kissing.

"I love you."

Every moment ended entirely too soon.

But Katara could wait, for now, at least. She could wait until the next time they kissed, to sink into the indescribable feeling.

Those poets had no idea what they were talking about, anyway.