Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: the Last Airbender
Notes: It's Taangage of DOOM. Practice writing with minimal dialogue, because I'm such a dialogue slut. Expecting minimal reviews but hoping for the best. Those looking for coherency shall be shot. Those looking for a moral shall be shot again. Survivors of the first two shots will be cannonballed. For those who care, this is the second to last update for a while, as I have joined NaNoWriMo + am going on vacation. So probably not a peep from me for at least a month.
skydiving
let yourself fall and pretend that something's going to catch you
And she is a princess.
It's a dare. Not a game of Truth or Dare, because they aren't sure that they believe in that quite yet. But it's a "guess what I saw" truth that morphs into a "oh that, well I know" truth which morphs into a "well if you're so great why don't you do it?!" dare. And it is not his dare, and it is not her dare. It is another person, a forgotten person, who is sharing their sandbox. It is their dare. It belongs to them, and them alone in the way of possessive five year olds.
But the nameless one reaches out and plants that dare-kiss right smack on her lips. Awkwardpainfulwrongweird and she really doesn't like it at all. She screeches like a banshee and flails. One tightly curled fist neatly knocks the nameless one in the chin, a miracle of sorts but one that she really deserves at this point.
Dawn of sixth grade like the dawn of Armageddon. She scuffs her feet along the cement, wiggles her toes against the cool notreallystone and waits for the bus. Her ears perk as she (just so very barely) catches the whisper of his feet as he runs toward her. He must be barefoot too. And thus they have solidarity.
He talks and that solidarity of the defiant bare feet is the only thing that saves him. It is a near miss. She doesn't think he appreciates it.
There is blushing because she suddenly realizes that he is a boy and she is a girl and even though she knows that he is staring at the princess-who-is-not-her she wants him so badly that it burns something inside her. There is anger that she is so silly and she throws herself wantonly at the boy-man-that-she-can't-have, who is brother to the princess-who-is-not-her. And it is okay. Enough.
But then it is not enough and she is running as fast as her parents money can take her. She was not meant for flying anyway.
They think she's a princess but she's really nothing of the sort. Yes, she is pretty and rich and beloved and confident and powerful. Yes, she is an unbearably perfect creature dressed in silk and fur. Yes, she reminds people of a tiny, delicate china doll with rosy cheeks and button nose and flowing hair. Yes, yes, yes. But.
"Hi, Twinkletoes. It's uh…been a while. I graduated college last week. Finally figured out how to use the phone properly and…you know what, fuck this. Go out with me, Twinkletoes or I'm going to rip you a new one. I know Sugar Queen's going with Sparky so don't even―hey, hey give me back that damn―" Click. Dial tone.
No, she is not a princess.
