Disclaimer: I don't own Avatar. There.
Note: First Avatar fic. If it sucks, it's because this is my first time writing these characters. Please forgive me, and enjoy.
Reasons Why
20FacesChizu
She hated the full moons. Full moon, in fire lily season most of all. He knew.
And yet every year, for every full moon, she was there.
In the palace garden, surrounded by thousands of the flowers that bloomed red like blood, her presence was a shocking contrast. Dressed in white and blue, silver combs decorating her deep chocolate hair- she was a sight not unlike some spirit or otherworldly woman. Surrounded in a hue so unlike her character, it was like the spot of darkness inside the yin's infinite, unstained white. Beneath the dusky sky, by now more violet and blue than red, she simply stood, and looked up.
Watching. Waiting to see the moonrise.
He doubted anyone but he ever watched her like this. As the moon crept into its position in the sky, tears would begin to fall down her face. It was like watching dew run off a stone; it shone, in the light- wet and smooth, and desperately beautiful.
This was the first night in a long time where she turned to look at him. He knew that she was aware of him watching; she always was. Now, she stared up at him- just looking balefully to him, where he stood by the third floor bay windows.
These were their 'talks.'
They were too shameful, too guilty, too fearful, too hateful to love each other. Even so, there was some bond or attachment there that drove them crazy, even as they walked in opposite directions, towards who was 'meant to be.'
Because the two of them, no matter how many times they'd been thrown together by Fate, were impossible.
Zuko had Mai. She was generally depressing and bland, but seeing her come out of that unresponsive shell made him indescribably happy. Katara had Aang. He was younger in some ways, older in others, and even though there were times when his wishy-washy and irresponsible ways got infuriating, she loved him. Because he was her savior, a friend, a companion; like a knight in shining armor, he'd protected her from the moment they met.
He had been partially responsible for the death of Aang, who she loved.
She had been responsible for enforcing her own will upon the bodies of others.
His people had killed her mother.
Her lover had killed his father.
He had attacked her. He had betrayed her.
She had withdrawn her trust. It would never return.
So here they stood, on her night of sin, where Blood-bending became possible. Surrounded by the scarlet flowers, the still red-tinged casts of the sky made her look drenched in the by-product of battle. He was sure that he didn't look much different, dressed all in red and gold as he was.
These were the reasons why.
Why they loved, hated, and maybe… maybe, why they yearned for each other.
Katara leaned over, and plucked a single blossom from the ground around her feet. It wasn't any more than a flick of her fingers, but she soon had that blossom dry, as if it had been pressed in a book for quite some time. She touched it to her lips- not a kiss, but almost as if she were reveling in its dry scent- before she tossed it to him.
He caught it. When he looked up, she wasn't there any more.
There was a book at his feet, filled with stories no one would read until long after he had passed, and within its pages he pressed the dried flower.
With a small golden key, he locked the cover, and disappeared back towards his room, where his wife was waiting.
AN: Well. I'm a Zutara fan personally, but I think I just got in the mood for some angst. Plus, in canon, this is about as far as those two would ever get, I bet. Lemme know what you think!