Sokka Drabbles
spockjasperzukowriting
Disclaimer: I do not own A:TLA or am in any way, shape, or form affiliated with Michael Dante DiMartino or Bryan Konietzko.
One- Poetry
He didn't know how she'd caught his eye. It was an accident, really. High-pitched giggling, an ostrich-horse, and gorgeous upper-class girls had lead him there. And as always, a simple mistake such as adding a syllable had gotten the chance of love ripped from him.
There were too many girls to think of now. Yue, Suki, Ty Lee... and now over ten more.
"Poetry," he sighed lamentably, taking out his boomerang and staring at it as he sat on the street on a cold night in Ba Sing Se. A rigid edge, a few consecutive holes, and a edged blue blade compromised the sum of the object, but it wasn't the physical result of the craftsmanship that gave value to the object. It was his father's, and his father's father's. Now it was his. The sapphire colours gleamed in the night, reminding him of the eyes that he inherited from his father. The only way he could remember his father was look at the possessions he held and stare in the mirror.
He stood up and growled, aiming and throwing the boomerang in the air. It swiftly spun, chopping through the still night and returning back to him. He extended his hand and caught it with practised precision. He peered down at it, snorted, and then slipped it into its case clinging to his back. He rotated his shoulders, as if to shrug back his rejection, and started heading down the dark street.
"You have a good aim," came a soft voice from behind him. "Like your flying boomerang, you come back with ease."
Sokka turned around to see the petite, shy girl that had been in the back of the poetry class. The one he had rested his eyes upon during the rhythmic duel. She had dark brown eyes that flickered in the moonlight. Her black hair matched the sky and her skin glistened. Her features were warm, rounded and curved like the majestic flow of a river. He softened his gaze, straightening his shoulders in confidence. It's just the girl. The pretty one, at that, he thought.
She smiled, the blush in her cheeks deepening. "How do you do it? Could you show me how to throw? I would like to learn."
Sokka's lips curled into a smile. He had been counting the syllables. She was not only teasing out a lesson from him- she was coaxing him to speak in haiku's again. Quickly forgetting the recent mistake, he puffed out his chest and walked towards her, a cocky grin phrasing his features.
"Pick a direction, any direction you like, and set your eyes there," he lectured, carefully counting his syllables this time. He was determined not to fail again.
She beamed modestly as he placed the boomerang in her hand, using his fingers atop hers to wind her hand around the handle. She lifted her arm and gestured to the direction she chose. Sokka smiled, moving behind her while keeping his long arm at length along hers.
"Gently as you can, twist yourself at the stomach, moving your arm back." He gently tugged on her wrist and rotated the girl on her hips, feeling her body movement against him. His gut tingled excitedly.
"Now throw it forward, moving your body loosely; lean into the throw," he guided, moving to her side. He kept his fingers around her wrist and shifted his other hand to her back. He leaned the innocent girl forward, aligning her torso with her locked arm. In the mid-point of her actions, he quickly reminded, "Don't let go of it. For now this is just practice. Let's repeat again."
She nodded and went back to a straightened poise as her starting position. The Earth Kingdom girl then repeated his lesson, moving slowly as she memorized the movements. She kept her grip fastened around the handle as Sokka watched her with bubbling blue orbs, his smile widening as she perfected the move in a simple two minutes. "You learn fast and well," he complimented.
She smiled, finishing the open-ended poem for him. "Your teaching is quite thorough. Depth is in your words."
Sokka's eyes flashed in amusement and pride. "Meaning in my words. No one has ever said that. I'm left to myself."
The girl gave him a look of disbelief. "You lie to me now," she accused. "You are strong, smart, and handsome. Why be on your own?
Sokka stared out into the night, gazing at the moon with a hint of longing. "My thoughts are unique. No one I know can read them. I prefer my peace."
"Then do excuse me," she requested as she walked forward, closing forth the distance between them. Her eyes sparkled. "I meant not to break silence. I do not know you."
Sokka chuckled. "My name is Sokka. I am from the Water Tribe. What is there to know?"
She girl pretended to think. "Oh, dear, I don't know," she pondered aloud. "You could tell your thoughts of me. I would like to know."
Her flirting made Sokka's heart throb, his chest hollow, and his mind reel. He stepped out into the moonlight, sentences sewing together in his mind. "Peaceful plumes of the growing colors are flowers... Standing still on earth," he stated, turning back to smile. "You are a flower; pleasing all and growing tall, reaching for the sky."
She giggled and blushed. "It is my turn now. How shall I describe your face? Or that of your might?"
Sokka admired his arms, flexing his muscles as a stretch of light ran along his silhouette. "You could mention my..." he paused to think, "...awesomeness and fighting skills. Maybe a touch of..." He drifted off once more as he struggled to phrase his self-centered thoughts into a mere limit of syllables.
She straightened up and then twisted forward, throwing the boomerang in the method and direction taught. Sokka and she watched it sail off into the sky, curling around in a wide arc before circling back into the girl's waiting hand.
"You have a big heart," she stated, striding up to him to return his boomerang. She entwined her fingers in his as she placed it in his hand. "You extend your warmth to all." She blushed, averting her eyes to the ground. "I think I love you."
Sokka cupped her cheek and lifted her gaze back to his. "I have loved many. But now that I have found you, I can stop my search."
He pulled her into his arms, enveloping her in the heat of his embrace. She stood up on her tip-toes, allowing him access to plant his lips on hers.
Fans and ribbons hanging from vending stalls swayed in the breeze, pulling out towards the couple standing by the side of a fountain in the inner ring of Ba Sing Se. The moon, full and luminescent, framed the image of Sokka with his poetry girl in arms.
For once, the opinion of others could not touch them.
They were protected by poetry.
A/N: And so concludes the first one-shot. I hope that you liked it! Reviews are welcome.