Disclaimer: I do not own anything. It all belongs to Bryke.

He keeps her hand wrapped in his own – a tanned hand inside a pale hand with a tattoo. He watches her face as she smiles and laughs at the jokes going around the room, watching her with his own little stupid smile resting upon his features.

There's something so surreal about being here, he thinks, as she turns to give him a smile. She leans over to kiss his cheek, and his eyes flutter for a moment before turning his head and kissing her lips, and everyone else in the room gives a quick "ooooh" of teasing. But neither of them blush, they're too happy to be embarrassed.

His hand tightens around hers quickly, a quick exertion of pressure to let her know he's still there, a squeeze to show he's just so happy at the moment. She squeezes his hand back, smiling while watching everyone else. But his eyes stay on her, and a question arrives in his mind.

Why would she have chosen him as the person she wanted to be with, anyway? Why not someone like Haru, tall and sturdy and not nearly as dorky as he himself was? It makes his smile fall for a moment, but then he thinks, She's here, why am I questioning it?

He glances down at their hands, at the contrasting skin tones. He's always thought of her as beautiful. Not a strange, foreign, exotic type of beautiful, but genuinely so. The color of her skin only adds to it, and he's happy to hold her tanned hand. He's happy to hold it because there was always that chance he would never be able to.

And that makes her all the more beautiful.

She's like every lovely thing in the world, he thinks, and he realizes how true it is. He would die if meant protecting her. He would leave everything he had if it meant following her. He felt she would do the same – hoped she would do the same. The smile that radiated off of her, the smile that meant, "We're here, we're actually all here, safe and sound," comforted him that yes, she would.

His eyes finally stray from her, and scan the room. There's Toph, legs kicked up, sipping at tea. And Sokka, playing Pai Sho with Zuko after finishing his "painting." Iroh and Suki are watching the game, and Mai's sitting on Zuko's lap, arms wrapped around his neck as she seems to be dozing off.

His smile grows as he realizes – not for the first time – that Katara is there with him, resting on the cushions, hands intertwined, actually with him and not anyone else, and he can't help but feel as light hearted as he possibly could.

They'd won the war, but it was so much more than that.

They'd won the right – all of them – to be peaceful.

He leans over and kisses her again, just to finalize the point, and she's kissing him back, and he thinks to himself as his arms wind around her waist again that, Yes, we all deserve to be with someone, we all deserve a little peace.

They have it. They all do.

And her hand will be in his throughout it all.

AN: Kay, so, this is the first Kataang piece I've written in about a year. And I think I did damn well to have neglected these two for so long.

I don't bash your ship, you don't bash mine, kapeesh? ;D

Enjoy~