I woke up this morning and thought to myself: oh, today's a day for present tense.
So there you have it: Zutara day six theme: faded. I'll be putting out the last theme "seasons" in a bit—and then Zutara Week is done, at last! (In that I don't have to be writing as much, not that I'm sick of Zutara :P) The two pieces are definitely smaller—but perhaps they'll make up for their size!
Enjoy!
You never intend to turn around from the very beginning, but he says something that you didn't expect to hear from his lips.
"That's something we have in common."
That moment you realize that it didn't matter who anyone is—war affects everyone.
And then you see a reflection of yourself in this stranger, familiarity with the lack of someone that meant the world.
You thought you would never know him, and you're surprised that you suddenly understand where all his misery came from.
If the wheels of fate had flipped, you would have ended up the same way as him. And at these crossroads, you would have met each other.
You're both looking into the mirror of the past and seeing the same broken child with the guilt-burdened shoulders—haunting like a shadow behind you whenever you try to look towards the light.
The enemy isn't him.
The enemy is loss.
divider
You find his scar means more than his face to him.
He almost isn't willing to be healed of it.
It reminds you of how you had wanted to punish yourself—still do—for the wrongs that you did and the wrongs that you will do.
He's more comfortable with imperfections than the pressure to be otherwise.
After all, the marred skin symbolizes him, makes him special, sets him apart from everyone else in the same way the necklace around your neck is the only one that wasn't passed down by male hands and carries the mark of your family's faults.
You've both signed contracts with yourselves—you would both be carrying the mementos for the remainder of your lives.
divider
He barely knows his own self, but he wants to help you discover who you are.
You want to get rid of the ghost that taps into your nightmares, screaming for help and vengeance.
You had already planned to detach yourself from the morals that you have always identified yourself with—you were ready to lose yourself in the name of resolving what—who—was lost.
You bend a man against his will. You use him as a chess piece, decide to sacrifice him like so.
Your scarred companion didn't know you had this edge to you.
After all, in the sky, people never see the dark side of the moon.
divider
Suddenly, in a clash of blue and red, you realize that he's been through so much more than you have.
It was a fight that was never meant to be—and from the beginning it's clear that he doesn't want to hurt his fallen sister.
He does everything he can to please her and lets her take out all her anger on him.
He had already been betrayed by his father and he is trying to help her get through the experience. He hopes that she'll find something for herself to live for besides her father's respect—he's afraid she doesn't thrive for anything else.
From the beginning, you had thought that he had called your name so that you could help him reconquer his throne. You had accepted, willing to return the aid that he had provided you when you were at your lowest, but he had really known that this was something for himself to figure out.
All you can do is stand by his side, and you're afraid that you'll get in the way.
And you do—he throws himself in front of his sister's rage.
He falls and you take this chance to prove to him that he doesn't have to do everything alone.
divider
And then, almost like a dream, all is said and done. The world is saved.
Peace is supposed to follow.
You sit at the firebender's side, all your friends surrounding you, and you feel a pang of greed hit you when you steal a glance at him.
You're selfish, you realize.
You want to hug him forever because he's been through so much and because you've seen him conquer demons on his own.
You want to be the first one he thinks of when he needs help; you've supported him all this time, and he's earned your loyalty.
You want to be the one that he trusts since you've seen him at every layer—from enemy to close friend—and you've invested so much thought in figuring him out.
You want to be the only one that truly understands him. No one else knows him better than you, who saw him through the biggest change of his lifetime.
You want to keep him next to you—solely you. He's such a special person and there will be no other like him.
You recognize a feeling, a sensation that society has titled love.
However, love isn't as you've always read it is in the romance novels.
It's always a burning desire, a warm fluttering within your chest.
But it's also painful surgery, you realize.
Like your chest has been unlocked and your heart cut in two, one half repossessed and stripped of your ownership.
And when this half rejoins its brother, the stitches seaming back together to make a whole, a bolt of lightning jolts through your bones and your heart resets.
A piece of your heart doesn't beat for you anymore.
It skips when he smiles, it burns when he feels nothing but anger, it clenches when he's writhing in tears, it aches when he sees there's no more to his life, it trembles when his worst fears appear before him.
It's lost when he's gone.
You can't afford love; you both can't afford it.
This you realize when you remember how young your skin is, how old the problems are in the world you thrive within, how ripe the time is for a change that will transform everything you've ever known, how mature you have become to carry responsibility on your shoulders.
You decide that the last and greatest sacrifice you will make for him is to cancel the operation, rise from the bed before the knife sinks into your heart and splits it between the two of you.
You could have been miserable that he couldn't be the one to finally take your heart and complete you, but there's something insurmountably special between the two of you, something so strong it couldn't be cut with the sharpest of swords.
So you let this thing called love subside, until it fades away, watching as the sun sinks into the ocean and carries its colors alongside it, while everything turns to gray.
Well I aimed for Zutara…I guess I roughly missed—whatcha think of that one shot? (And yes, that pun just created itself—words are just that awesome.)
thir13enth