He kissed her hard and with that smirk that made her knees shake, he fled into the night. How had she managed to fall in love with a man like him?
She was a woman of high class, pristine with good morals and beliefs and family and status and yet, she'd fallen hopelessly in love with that sinner.
He was rugged with line of hair along his strong jawline, rough with sharp lines that defined his muscles. He was always smudged with dirt from his travels, hair always pulled back tightly into a wolf tail. His clothes were coarse and worn thin in some places but he was everything she could have ever wanted.
He was good and he was bad and was all that she loved. He was a rebel, a "barbaric savage" from the Southern Watertribe fighting for the world's freedom, as well as his own. He ran with a band of other such revolutionaries, sabotaging Fire Nation supply lines and fighting the Fire demons with just as much ferocity and savagery as his people were accused of. He killed with such precision and speed and all with a vicious grin on his face that made soldiers scream in their sleep.
He was a man on the run, hunted by the Fire Prince himself. There hadn't been a right or a wrong he could choose, this war had separated his family, nearly destroyed his sister and killed his best friend.
He was a man of war, a man with hate and anger branded deep within his blood. He was a killer, a sinner, the Blue Demon that most were unsure existed.
He was the ghost with the wolf-face that killed men in the dark under the glow of the moon. They said he was a demon who slaughtered and stole the spirits of men in vengeance of his sister; a witch that bent the blood that ran through the veins of men, the one who'd been said to have had her soul ripped from her body when the Avatar died.
The one now rumored to actually still be alive and carrying the next Avatar in her womb.
Still, others claimed he was merely a man, a man to keep a weather eye for because he killed like a disease; fast, silent and in the cover of night.
Toph knew better. She knew he was just a man fighting for his people, fighting for the world and for balance. She knew him, knew he was a man who was clever and dangerous and gentle and soft. A man who was good and bad and all that she had. A sinner, a man on the run, a man she would sell her soul for, a man she loved with her whole being.
A man whose name was Sokka, a Warrior of the Southern Watertribe.