Little Moments
Their story was filled with little moments. Times when they would show their feelings, even if no one, including the other, noticed. Little moments where a small action meant so much more than a superficial gesture. A smile, a glance, a touch. Little moments when fire and water would connect, and sparks would fly.
There were the conscious moments, when they deliberately tried to catch the attention of the other. Moments when they used their bending to signal to each other. To give the other small, intangible gifts. Gifts that meant so much more than all the flowers and treasures in the world combined. Little moments when a dancing river or a blazing fire really meant "I love you."
Like the times when he would find himself suddenly sprawled on the ground, soaked to the bone. ("Hey! What was that for?") Or when the river danced as he walked by, and he knew it was her. Like when she would notice the campfire blaze up for a moment, before dying back down again. ("Did it just get hotter in here?" "It's just me." "Shut up, Zuko.") Or when she spotted a flicker of orange among the shadows in the forest, and she knew it was him.
Like the furtive glances that no one else saw. Well, usually no one saw. ("Why are you looking at my sister?" "Go away, Sokka.") He would catch her eye, and she would blush. Or she would glance at him, only to find him staring back, and they would both look away, embarrassed.
And then there were the unconscious moments. Times when instinct took over. Times when they acted on impulse. Times when even they didn't realize what had happened. These little moments showed just how deep the feelings went. Deeper than they had even realized. Little moments when passion was disguised as a gentlemanly gesture or a caring offer.
Like how he would step closer to her whenever she was upset or hurt. ("Leave me alone, Zuko." "No.") Or when he moved in front of her whenever something dangerous was nearby. Like when she always looked at him first after a battle. ("Really, Katara, I'm fine.") Or how her eyes would dart to his face whenever the word 'fire' was mentioned, no matter the context.
And then there were the things they did in secret. Things when the others were sleeping, out collecting firewood, or training. Things that came and went, leaving the others none the wiser. Things that stayed between the two of them alone. Little moments when it felt like it was just the two of them alone in their own world.
Like when they would sneak out late to dance in the forest and kiss under the moonlight. ("You look really tired, Katara. What were you doing last night?" "None of your business!") Or when he sat next to her during the play on Ember Island, and secretly held her hand. Like when they would walk with their arms brushing when they thought no one was looking. ("Why are you two standing so close together?" "No reason.") Or how they would just sit together, smiling at each other, while they were alone in the camp.
These little moments meant nothing to the rest of the world. But they meant everything to fire and water. They were moments when they were free from all the drama of the real world. Free to just be themselves. Free to do what they wanted, when they wanted, because they wanted. When they would show each other the truth. That everything they did when others were watching was just an act. That all the glances and touches meant something. That they really did care.