Hi, Avatar fandom! It's been a while since I've written here, but I thought of this idea one day, and I couldn't let it go. So I wrote it out. ^_^ You know how that sort of thing goes, right? Well, this is a sort of different style for me... but I like it, and I hope that you do too. Onwards!

Disclaimer: Holy crap, it's been ages since I've had to do one for Avatar. Speaking of which-- I disclaim.

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They were perfect couple. They walked together with their arms wrapped around each other, as though letting go would pull one of them into the Spirit World and they would never see each other again. He was all strong arms and solid hugs, and she was all coy glances and cheek kisses, and they were all smiles and laughter.

They quite famous, the two of them; then again, it was impossible not to be, what with them helping to save the world and all that. They were invited to all the meetings, the big decisions that had to be made, and all of the parties and social gatherings that went along with it.

They were always approached by people older than them, people their age, people younger than them, most of the time people who they didn't know because they were simply the rich nobility that also got invited to these sorts of things. And they would squeal and clap their hands to observe the two of them as a couple.

"You're so cute!" they would exclaim with wide eyes and even wider mouths. "How did you two end up getting together?"

And they would indulge them with smiles coated in sugar and hugs sweetened with honey and reply, "Well, it happened like this…"

Because they loved to tell anyone who would listen, and their close friends, the ones whose faces they would see again and actually remember, they were tired of hearing it. Many of them had lived it. So the tale would be spun and their audience would laugh and clap again, like trained hog-monkeys, and say that they thought it was lovely.

And it was lovely. It was wonderful.

He kisses the shell of her ear and she sighs with content. They are young and passionate and they never want to be apart, considering what it took for them to be with each other in the end. Every moment that they see each other, it is clear in the looks and the electricity that sizzles between them.

The little moments are what defines it, for her. During a post-war meeting with the others and he brings her a glass of water without her asking. As they discuss plans for rebuilding the nations and he pulls her away for just a moment so that they can hold each other without interruption. When he whispers that he loves her and it sends shivers down her spine every time.

For him, he is simply glad that they made it out alive. He watches her as she walks and marvels that somehow she could decide to be with him. Sometimes he looks at her while she sleeps and imagines that side of the bed being empty because she was killed in the battle and he had to struggle on without her. Most of the time he accepts that this is the way things are, and he wishes to keep it this way, for this is how he likes it.

(Alas, things change. His life has been hard so far, and he has softened up after it gets a little easier, and in doing so leaves himself defenseless. She is unaware, as she wants to keep her eyes firmly shut again what is true. They are both unprepared.)

More public places, more unmemorable faces. They walked hand in hand, squeezing their fingers tightly when faced with a problem. Meetings and get-togethers are now fewer and sometimes far between, and everyone expressed their relief that they were finally able to relax a bit and calm their nerves.

He told an inquiring mind that they were planning on spending the time to give more attention to each other without having a nagging worry in the back of their minds. She smiled and nodded, agreeing completely with what he was saying.

The questioning soul left only partially satisfied; they had answered their wonders about the extra time, but no mentions of children coming any time soon. And so they were another left thinking about whether or not little ones would be added into the picture.

Another party, but this one solely for the entertainment of those invited; and odd idea, since parties that all had attended were meant to be accompanied by a meeting about how to settle this, that and the other, or what to do about this group of people because they were doing this.

Some of the faces rang bells and some did not. Most people were met, and he smiled while a mother said that her daughter had been born two months ago, and she laughed when a young man told a joke about one of the most recent moves in politics.

A small girl and what appeared to be her older sister approached. "I'm sorry," said the older one, grinning cautiously as though she was almost awestruck by their presence. "My sister wanted to hear about how you met." She looked up at them with hopeful eyes, and they looked down at her with unreadable ones.

"It's a very long story." She finally told her, letting go of his hand altogether.

Because now the story was not quite so interesting. Their friends were breathing sighs of relief because they were no longer subjected to it, and anyone who may have been expecting it was disappointed because they no longer were bursting to let everyone who passed them know.

He approaches her with one of those looks and moves her hair aside as though to begin something, and she tells him, "Not tonight."

Sometimes he finds himself wondering what to do. Problems are working themselves out on their own, and there are no longer calls every day about a left over Fire Nation pocket that was harassing the townspeople in the Earth Kingdom, or about any disgruntled members of the Fire Nation itself. He feels somewhat useless, and tells her this.

Sometimes she cries. Not always, but sometimes. She wonders what they have lost and she wishes that it would come back. She is bewildered at the time to lie back and do nothing, and ends up forcing them both to do dismally unexciting small things to take up the extra minutes. She looks at him out of the corner of her eye as they do and asks herself what about him looks different now.

(They are both realizing that it is not the events that make a relationship, but the people in it, and are finding out that wars twist everything into a different perspective. And it is salvageable at this point, but it is hardly surprising that they are barely up for the effort that it will take.)

They do not feel the need for constant physicality anymore. They continue to smile politely at those who do at them, and talk to anyone who starts a conversation. Travelling around the world in a sort of tour to see the sites that they had visited when younger is interesting for all of them. Every night so far has been filled with memories of all the places that they have been.

But now their friends are worried about them. They have started to whisper about what happened to them; nothing came close to the truth, because the truth is so simply that it would be impossible to guess. All those closest, the best friends, they have all tried to talk to the pair without success.

Eventually it is decided on that they will figure it out themselves in time because they were simply going through a rough patch.

Another reunion for them. The people of this town cheered when they arrived, bedecked in their finest to greet everyone. Speeches were made, food was served, and music was played, leaving the individuals there to mingle on their own.

Now when someone comes up to talk to them, they stiffen as though preparing for an attack. She stared hard at the old man who was smiling toothily at them and glanced sideways, where she saw her partner clenching his fists to mask the fact that he was using extreme effort not to walk away.

"I remember you two when you were youn'uns," the old man told them, leaning heavily on a stick. "Always fighting, you were, fighting with someone. It's nice that things have settled down." He looked them up and down almost conspiratorially and asked, "How did you two end up together, then?"

"It's really not all that great." He said irritably.

Because it really wasn't.

She sometimes makes an attempt at snuggling again, like they used to. He pushes her away, because all of a sudden he can't breathe and shakes his head furiously. She cries at this point; she always does. He watches without knowing what to do.

She feels that something about them is tearing at the seams. She has long since abandoned her tries at using her time wisely, because there is simply too much for her to deal with. She fights with him—a lot. She can't seem to keep her temper in check, because underneath the surface are those questions that are dying to be answered, but those questions that she refuses to ask and he refuses to acknowledge.

He realizes that they've lost something that they had. It is important to him that he finds out what, and so he simply sits and stares at the ceiling for hours, contemplating it. She screams at him sometimes, for this, and sometimes he reigns in the words that he is longing to throw back at her and says nothing, but sometimes he explodes as well, and then they do not talk for days.

They understand that it might have something to do with their inability to admit that they were wrong—or at least having to do with pride. That part has never been perfected and they pay dearly for it now. Innumerable distances stretch between them, and when they kiss, it no longer tastes like mint.

(They are blindsided by their supposed safe world to do what they need to focus on. Too late they see the mistakes they are making as they walk and too late do they see the point at which they should have turned around and starting walking back. But they are used to being too late.)

Their friends watch them walk in, sigh, and look away. There wasn't anything they could do even if they tried, and they have too many other things at stake to worry about two of their friends who were lied to by the world and each other as they hurried along their way.

He is no longer a safe stronghold and she is no longer all cute snuggles, and they are no longer full of laughs and smiles to present to the world.

And yet those who don't know them as well continue to scan them walking in together with a giggle at the sight. "You guys are adorable," they would say, all of the faces and voices blending together like a chorus of inquisitive minds. "How did you get together?"

They know that they have tried to cross the spaces in between too late, and now they stand on opposite sides of the world.

She looks at him. He looks away.

(They understand, now.)

"Oh." She answered as he stared determinedly at the floor. "We're not together."

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Author's Notes:

Um, yeah. My idea of who the he and she were changed constantly as I was writing this. I'm thinking that it would either be Zuko/Katara, Zuko/Mai or Aang/Katara. But I purposefully left it open-ended so that you guys could make your own decisions about that. I'm actually quite proud of this, I like how it came out. Please, drop me a review and tell me what you thought too! I'm anxious to know how I fared after writing for so long in other fandoms and then coming back. D= (Oh, and please forgive any spelling/grammar. I fail at life and will admit it. -_-)

Thanks for reading! You all get cookies!