Just a little vignette I wrote because I'm still stuck on Kainora feels... I have more complaints... THEY NEVER KISSED ON THE SHOW! (And I mean mouth to mouth... I know she kissed his cheek, but it's NOT ENOUGH FOR ME! ARRRRRGHHHH!)
WAFF ALERT. LOTS AND LOTS OF WAFF AND ANGST. WAFF AND ANGST.
The idea of the burn scar, I got from a one-shot written by Bluedog270! So thank you for that idea, mate! Cheers! :D:D:D
Rated K+ for K.O. WAFF
Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own LoK, but I love manipulating the characters for my own selfish wishes.
It's quiet. A quiet, introspective morning as Jinora lays against his side, breathing in time with the rise and fall of his firm chest. He's still deep in sleep so she just watches him. The long lashes against his cheekbones, his full lips, tousled, soft hair in disarray, and she can't help but smile.
She knows it's about time for her to get up. Time for her to rise and go teach the new batch of airbender children and train them in the ways of spiritual enlightenment. Such is her duty as an airbending master afterall.
But she doesn't want to.
It's times like these, in times of peace, laying against the love of her life that Jinora can't help but be so grateful that he is still here. That she can lay with him as the sun rises and rest easy knowing the worst has come and passed.
But she knows that there will be other days. Other times full of danger. A new villain will rise and they will be thrown back into the fray once again. And when the fighting is done and the world has fallen unto peaceful times, Jinora will once again be grateful.
Grateful that she didn't lose him.
Her fingers trail down his abdomen, lightly fingering the old scar of the bad burn he received during their fight with Kuvira those many years ago. The remnants of the jagged burn that left his skin marred and blistered. The burn that traveled from his navel well until the underside of his jaw. She fingers the skin under his rib cage, where the brunt of the attack had hit him. Where he had bruised and where the skin had puckered so badly, for a while, many believed a skin graft was of utmost importance if he did not want to lose it.
He had hidden his pain well, and refused the help, but Jinora knew better. She had been with him everyday as he cringed and hissed when he removed his clothes. She heard him crying out in pain as he bathed the wound with peroxide. She had seen him grit and grind his teeth and clench his fists until his nails bit into the skin of his palm whenever a particularly rough hit during training got through his defense and hit his abdomen.
She had known how much it pained him. How hard he had been trying to stay brave for her.
She traces the jagged skin up to his collarbone, where the wound separates into three sharp claw looking marks. It's almost artistic in a way, the way it adorns his skin. He hadn't wanted to get it healed by any healers, though many waterbenders offered to remove the mark.
But like Mako, Kai had wanted to keep his injury as a badge of honour. Though painful, it was a symbol of the lengths he was willing to go to protect his nation and the woman he loved. It was a sign of his devotion to his people and to remind himself of his duty to his people. Jinora had always found his dedication awe inspiring.
She moves her finger to the healed puncture wound on his left collarbone, recalling that in the airbenders' efforts to quell some of the more violent rebellions on the precipice of Ba Sing Se, Kai had protected a little child caught in the crossfire of two fighting groups of bandits and had gotten struck by an errant bolt of lightning. She remembers how frightened and heartbroken she was as she watched him crumple to the ground, bleeding from the hole in his chest, hoping so badly that he was not dead.
Kai survived. But she had been told, multiple times, that had the bolt been a few centimeters right or down, Kai's heart would probably have been stalled. He would not have made it.
Jinora flattens her palm against his chest, feeling comfort from the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, knowing that she needs to savor this moment. Because there could easily come a time when she wouldn't be able to lay with him like this, basking in the soft glow of the early morning sun.
She feels his breathing pattern shift and then his hand is covering hers, curling around her fingers gently, softly.
"You're thinking too loudly…" he says gruffly, voice hoarse from being roused out of his sleep. His other hand tenderly caresses strands of her silky hair, splayed all over his chest and parts of the mattress.
She scoffs lightly, "I am not."
His chest vibrates with laughter, "Yes you are. I can practically hear your thoughts."
She remains silent and just stares at his scar. Really. It's moments like these that she really does recognize how much she would hurt if he weren't here. How much it would kill her inside to not have him with her. How much she needs him in her life.
As if he can understand her thoughts, he sighs deeply and intertwines his fingers with hers, "Jinora… Don't cry."
She doesn't realize she's crying until she sees the wetness on his chest.
"Don't you tell me not to cry Kai." She mumbles, feeling slight embarrassment, "Do you know how hard it is not knowing if you survived a fight? Every time I watch you get injured, it kills me that much more inside. What if… what if one day…"
He curls his arm around her shoulders and brings her closer to him, rubbing her back softly. "What we do isn't easy, Jinora… Do you think it's easy to watch you get hurt either?"
She sniffles and buries her head into the crook of his shoulder and neck, tightening her grip on their conjoined hands.
"I know that there's always a danger every time we go into battle, but I made you a promise. I promised you I wouldn't die, didn't I?"
She nods.
"Have I ever broken a promise?"
And Jinora knows that he would never intentionally hurt her, but she knows this is the best he can do to appease her because there are no guarantees with their line of work. No guarantees that they will both make it out alive every time they enter the battlefield. Sometimes, Jinora resents it. She wishes that maybe if they had been born in another time, they wouldn't have to deal with this uncertainty of not knowing whether they'll get to see the other another day.
But those thoughts come few and leave fast, because she knows this life is the reason she was able to meet him in the first place. This life is what makes them stronger. This life is what gives her the strength to try to stay that much harder to stay alive.
She snuggles further against him, glancing up into his emerald gaze and allowing herself a small smile. For now, this is enough. Being with him like this is enough. And she'll soak it in and make more memories with him like this and hold on to her hope that she'll be able to spend another day with him. Another day waking up in his arms.
"I know you haven't."
He returns her smile and flips them over, gathering her underneath him and kissing her fervently. He gazes down at her like she is his whole world and relishes in her wide, glistening brown eyes and breathless whisper of his name.
"I know you're worried and scared. But don't be. I'm here now, Jinora. That's what counts."
And to that, she has no response but to reach up and pull his face down to hers.
"Don't ever leave me."
Thinking about the 'what ifs' can come later.
"I hope I never have to."
Because he's right.
She has him—here and now—and that's all that counts.