Zutara? Out of my domain? THE HORRORSS…

Finals coming up…SIGHHS

Disclaimer: SIGHS!

(ATLA)

In the end, it's more than just saying things and making promises. It was more than pretty dresses and shiny rings glistening in the sun. It was about staying together through everything and more.

The first time Katara felt his touch, she felt fearful. Her mother's necklace in his hands, she could only stare into piercing golden eyes. She thought in the back of her mind that this is what her mother probably had seen before she had died.

The second time, Katara touched him. His face was so different to the first time. He seemed calm, but the scar that tore his face had left its permanent mark of hate and regret. She wanted to heal it, let him be free of that burden.

The third time, Katara had felt his strong hands grip her wrist. She was angered, for the fact that she put trust in him and he crushed it all. She threatened him, her words like acid; she laughed and mocked him, insulting his culture and him just being alive.

The fourth time, Katara watched him. She had no idea why, to be honest. They were all sleeping, and she could not. She traveled along the halls of the rooms and found one room's door wide open. He was sound asleep, curled up like a child, holding his blankets like as if it was his mother. She walked up to his bed, almost ready to smother him in his sleep. Then she saw his face cringe and relax; cringe and relax. He groaned and flopped over onto his other side, only to return to the same position. His fingers continued to itch the horrible scar that marred his face, and she could only watch him.

"Mother…"

The fifth time, the touch was accidental. He peacefully handed Katara a bowl of porridge and she snatched it away. Only she noticed the quick brush of their hands, and her mind wandered back to the night before, when his lips parted and his eyes were wet.

Toph smirked, and ignored Aang and Sokka when they fearfully asked her what her problem was.

The sixth time, Katara had caressed his face. Every night she visited his open room, watching him toss and turn in a never ending nightmare. She suddenly felt saddened and gently caressed his face like a mother would. She felt the warm tears on her fingers and he gripped her palm gently, rubbing a thumb across her hard skin. It's been so long since she felt that warm touch, the gentleness in her heart.

"Sugarqueen, I never knew you had the courage."

"Shut up!"

The seventh time, Katara was hugged by him.

"Hey Zuko, let me tell you something."

"…Okay…"

"I remember the first time we met. You tied me to a tree and threatened me."

"…Sorry about that."

"That first time I was really scared; too scared to even really remember what happened."

He bowed his head and looked away.

"Then the second time, when we were in that cave, I felt warmth. Not in my heart or anything cheesy like that, but your face was warm, just like mine. And that's when I thought you could have really changed for the better."

He nodded slowly.

"Then the third time I just hated you. I just plain hated you, you were so dumb and stupid, and thinking that you could reform yourself."

"What's your point?"

"Hold on. The fourth time, or actually kinda more, I started watching you sleep."

"YOU WATCHED ME WHILE I SLEPT?!"

"Shut up, let me finish. You…have a lot of nightmares, don't you. You told me about your mother, but I never really believed you until then. You kept on whispering for mother and I thought back to when I was little, and when I had to care of Sokka. Those were times I really wished my mom were alive. I don't even really remember her face, just her back."

"I've always remembered how my mother looked. She was the only one…" He cut himself off.

"The fifth time is stupid. We brushed hands when you gave me a bowl of porridge. That was the time when I came to realization as to how human you were."

He played with little flicks of fire.

"Then the sixth time I started…touching you while you slept."

He opened his mouth in disgust.

"Not like THAT you pervert! I just kinda, stroked her face or hair, or your back, just to comfort you! I felt bad, because of everything I did when mocking you and your mom. I should've known better and I still feel really bad about it."

He nodded… "So…what's your point?"

Katara, currently sitting on a stray column, walked up to him, head down. "I'm sorry, Zuko. For a lot of things, but not everything. I was being childish, but that was the first time I really felt stomped on. It hurt a lot here…" Katara gripped her shirt, the spot right above her heart.

Zuko looked down and sighed. He gently gripped the back of her head and pulled her into his chest. He gently placed another arm around to her other shoulder, his arm limp across her back. "I don't care. I'm the one to apologize, not you. I couldn't find myself until then, and now that I've realized what I've done wrong, I want to say, I'm sorry."

Katara breathed into his chest, gulping air. She still had her hand gripping her chest, and she felt warm tears on her cheeks.

Zuko rested his chin on her head and listened to her sob silently. Though not really fully understanding why she was crying, he closed his eyes and gripped her tighter.

All that really seemed to matter in the end was not forgiveness or saying meaningless words.

It was about being together.

(ATLA)

Does anyone else feel like Katara's being a bitch lately? She made fun of a whole nation's culture. Though it was directed at Zuko, those sun people are also taking a hit. I know she's being all PMS-y like, but geesh girl, you're being a total rhymes with witch.

We had to write an essay on Twelfth Night on one of four motifs. I chose community, and my thesis was that the characters had a need for company to fill a certain void. For example, Viola lost her brother, so she fell in love with Orsino.

So that got me thinking. And I wrote this.

I hope you enjoyed it.

Peach out folks, I got finals this week.

Lovely.