hey guys! so...I wrote this forever ago, before I had an account, and found it tonight. It's in its original form, so pardon it, I wasn't very good! I'm thinking of editing it and showing the improvements, but to keep the spirit of Kataang week I'll post the first ones. :)

Beautiful Storm

Kataang week

Umbrella

Ironically, Aang liked rain. True, when it started to thunder his pleasure turned to apprehension, but he still liked rain. The simple drumming sounds put his body into a natural rhythm, and his thoughts mulled peacefully in his head. He was sitting, watching the crystal drops, when he heard her behind him.

"Hey, Katara." She seemed surprised that he knew she was there. Gracefully, she walked toward him.

"What are you thinking about?" She asked, grinning at the unsaid things between them. Squeezing her hand, Aang answered.

"You, and everything we've done, and all the places we've gone to… Do you remember that day at the Southern Air temple?" After a moment of searching, Katara remembered, and both smiled at the happy memory.

Aang wiped tears from his eyes, and gasping for breath, he laughed at the soaked Katara. She glared, trying to be angry, but failed and started laughing again. Finally, the pair collapsed into giggles, and stopped.

"Katara, I haven't had that much fun in ages!" Aang squeezed her hand. Trying once again to be dignified, Katara sniffed.

"Well, I'm glad someone had fun!" Aang caught on to the façade. Smirking, he straightened up.

"I am very much sorry, Miss Katara. Perhaps next time, I can offer you an umbrella before you walk into the shower." Katara struggled to keep a straight face.

"For your information, Mr. Avatar, I thought it was a closet. And yes, next time bring an umbrella." She finally smiled, and brought her face close to his.

"Well of course, Miss Katara"

"That's exactly what I want to hear, Mr. Avatar." The following kiss was sweet and long.

"Yeah. I remember when you promised to bring an umbrella. You didn't know that there was one there." Katara's analogy fell short, and Aang just looked at her, puzzled. Giggling, she poked Aang in the chest. "You, silly!" He sat up, frowning.

"Are you comparing me to an umbrella?" He looked confused, embarrassed, but slightly amused. "That isn't very flattering."

"I know. But it's true! You feel good in my hands, you're always above me, and you never let me get too wet. You're my umbrella." Aang smiled again, understanding. He ran a hand through her hair, whispering into her ear as he did so,

"I wouldn't want it any other way."

Smoke and Mirrors.

He holds the fire in his hands.

Smoke rises, enchanting me.

What once was fear,

Now is heat.

Passion,

Love.

She gazes into the mirror.

Her eyes huge, mesmerizing.

What once was comfort,

Now is fire,

Passion,

Love.

Smoke and mirrors,

Sea and Wind,

Endless dancing,

Never ends,

Immortalized,

In Smoke and Mirrors.

Heartbeats

Lesson today:

Healing.

She traces the bloodlines through my body,

Electric pulses left behind.

Glowing white,

The water flows.

We find a heartbeat.

I smile.

She catches my euphoria,

Smiling softly,

She whispers.

"You can always find them, if they're there."

From the grin on her lips,

I know she's found mine.

Butterfly

Katara blushed, watching him dip and loop above her, so high in the air he could be a bug. Ew. That thought makes her wrinkle her nose. Aang isn't a bug, he's a… butterfly. Well, that's still a bug, but not an icky one. Giggling at the odd thoughts in her head, Katara started to pack up camp, only to hear a slight whistling noise. It was getting louder! After a moment of panic, she realized the whistle was her little butterfly, coming in for landing.

"Hey Katara! You wouldn't believe how great it is up there! It's so warm, and the breeze is just- wait, you're packing up already?" His bouncy attitude disappeared like the wind, and though Katara smiled, it was in a rueful voice that she answered.

"Sorry, Aang, but we have a schedule to keep. If we're to get to that town tonight, we can't take very long breaks." She felt a twinge when he frowned, and tried to make amends. "Once we get there, though, Sokka's going to give us a day to stock up, but that won't take all day. We can have some fun then." His eyebrow rose, and he smirked almost…evilly.

"Aw, Katara, putting off fun, are we? Tut, tut, maybe you aren't as fun as I thought. Pity, I was going to show you something…" Turning away, he started whistling. Katara only waited a second.

"Well, we can take a few extra minutes. What were you going to show me?" She was almost as excited as he was, until he opened his glider. Stepping back, she shook her head. "No, Aang. I won't get on that thing. It's-It's not for me! Aang, I'm not light, like you." He looked at her, puzzled.

"Katara, I weigh more than you, what are you talking about?" She shook her head, still blocking her nightmares out. But it was too hard.

Flying. Aang held her, and they soared together. Smiling, she looked at him, then suddenly saw the faces of those she loved. Kya, Pakku, Sokka, Hakoda, Toph. Everyone she was letting down. With each face, she felt their weight inside her. Suddenly, Aang couldn't hold on to her. His arms slowly dissolved, then so did he. As Katara fell, she heard his voice.

"You failed me, Katara."

"Katara?" Aang had drawn closer to the crying Katara. She turned away.

"I'm not light like you Aang, I'm not happy." His grey eyes expanded, and Aang drew closer.

"Why not, Katara?" Why did he have to be so kind? Instead of the usual soothing balm his voice provided, it was like sandpaper on her fragile heart. She turned, shouting.

"Don't patronize me! Everyone knows I'm failing. I'm not helping at all. It took me weeks just to wake you up, and I couldn't even clear your chakras! I'm not a help anymore, Aang. And I think… I'm hurting you." By the end of her tirade, Katara's anger had faded. She was only left with despair. Aang drew closer, his stormy eyes sad.

"Katara, you will never hurt me. I would be dead without you! You are the reason I'm still here, fighting. Without you, I'm nothing." She looked at him, then grabbed his shirt in her hands and kissed him fiercely. Letting go, she looked at him and smiled softly.

"Thank you."

"No, Katara, thank you." It seemed that Aang was letting a pause in there, for dramatic effect or closure, Katara didn't know. Finally, Aang piped up again, voice inflicted with the boyish hope she loved. "Does this mean you'll try it?" Even after what happened, he was so persistent! Katara laughed, and thought about it. Then she realized something.

Katara wanted to. She wanted to let go, to fly and laugh with absolute abandon, to lose herself in the sky. Taking a deep breath, she nodded. Aang wrapped an arm around her waist, and they were flying. Now, she was a butterfly, too.

Mine

Mine.

She is possessive,

She knows it.

She likes knowing what is hers.

But he confused her to no end.

Was he hers?

Were those strong hands holding her hers?

Or were they his?

Was that blotchy scar hers?

Or was it his?

Was he hers?

Or was he his?

He confused her to no end.

But she liked it.

She liked the fact that the possibility was there.

The possibility was that he wasn't just his.

True, he was independent,

So was she.

But were they their own anymore?

He confused her to no end.

But she liked it.

She decided it didn't matter,

Either way was fine.

Because to her,

He was,

"Mine."

Gravity

When she kisses me,

I escape gravity.

Sure, that was cheesy!

But I don't care anymore.

I love her in a completely cliché, cheesy, run of the mill way.

And it is the best.

Her kisses are like floating.

Her kisses are like falling.

I guess they're the same thing,

You never know which is which until they hit the ground.

Comatose

Comatose. It's a beautiful word, rolling off the tongue like liquid silver. And the truth of it is beautiful, being away from the world, freed of its worries and pain. An empty abyss. Katara hated it.

Beautiful as it is, it was killing her. Each day of its tranquil beauty was a new scar on her heart. She'd heard Aang tell Appa once that she was so beautiful it killed him, and now she understood. Aang's total detachment, his relieving of worries, his haven, was killing her. The simple beauty in his existence was killing her. Katara was selfish, and she knew it.

That was the rhythm of her days, until he awoke, and Katara relearned beauty. Beauty was his grey eyes, large with fear and confusion, latching on to anything familiar. Beauty was his winces of pain, his tears at failure, and his shouts at her. It was in his desperation to do his job, no matter the cost. It was in his insistence to do it alone. Beauty was in the turmoil of his life, not the peace of his death.

His abyss was beautiful. But his storm was even more so.