A/N: I don't own any of this. If I did...well...let's just be glad I don't.
She's right behind him, and he doesn't know she's there.
At least, she can't be sure if he knows or not. His heart rate's the same, so no giveaway there. He continues mending the boat, getting ready to leave to go home, and who knows when, and if, they'll meet again. At the thought, her heart breaks, and she would say something if not for the solid structure of rock-hard dignity she's trying to maintain. No, there won't be any girly, stupid confession, no tears. It'll be straightfoward and plain, because that's who she is, despite the labyrynth of emotions she's attempting to navigate in the dark. She's going to ask him, he's going to say yes or no, and if it's a no, they'll be happy, he won't go, they'll get married and settle down together in the town. He'll be a mechanist or a blacksmith. He's good like that. She'll teach earthbending, or if that doesn't pan out, work in the tea shop with Iroh. They'll have a couple of kids, boys, hopefully. And together, they will get up to all kinds of happy shenannigans.
If it's a yes, then, even more simply, she's going to nod, say goodbye, walk away, and throw herself into the nearest body of water as soon as she's alone. No tears, no angst. Just cut and dry. Or, in this case, cut and wet. Because there are some humiliations which you just shouldn't have to live through.
He finishes his work and straightens, turning to face her. He doesn't seem too surprised, so maybe he knew all along. No matter. It was time. She had been waiting to ask for five years, and she had finally screwed up the courage to do it. She balls up her fists, focuses on his heartbeat to make sure he's telling the truth, and finally asks the question that's been weighing on her since she met him.
"Sokka, are you gay?"