===hands that hold mine===
They moved slowly along the sloping shoreline. Two people as different as the sun and moon, yet like those great lights connected. Her fingers stroked the palm of his hand. The breeze smelled of salt and clean air. Katara was humming lightly, her voice mixing with the sloshing of the weighty waves. She tugged lightly against his arm and they slowed until they were standing quietly just off of the dry sand.
Under his feet tide gently swished, the icy water splashing up to his ankles and the chill running down his spine. As he adjusted his weight, the wet grainy sand shifted under his toes. The cool sea breeze swept damp curls off of her forehead into his neck, turning the water on his skin frigid. Their fingers intertwined, bodies brushing.
She swayed a bit to the whoosh of the ocean and crash of waves far out.
His skin was hot despite the icy evening and he could feel her chilled side against him as she leaned into his bare chest. One of her arms was wrapped around his waist, the other was relaxed at her side. His hair needed cutting but he wore it down in his eyes, black and choppy. Her hair was up, except for the loose strays that fluttered against his neck. Her head rested on his shoulder as her face tilted up to view the bloody expanse.
Streaks of light pierced the darkening sky, bright and blinding as the sun that was slowly sinking below the waves. He squinted out, raising a hand to block the brilliant scarlet of the sky. The evening's low clouds were caught between the greying darkness and the fading blaze. Waves leapt up to meet the horizon, ocean air gusting across the shore. They stood, small and insignificant in the fading light of evening. He felt her arm tighten around his middle. Gazing out at the splashing, crashing waves: he could hardly breathe.
He wondered if she was seeing the same sight he saw, if it filled her with the same awe, or if this was nothing new to her.
But he didn't need to ask. He didn't need to speak. Nothing needed to be said because, for the first time since he could remember, there was nothing he needed to say. There was no point he needed to prove. Even if there had been something, he knew she would understand. Or she would at least listen to him.
He leaned forward into her body as his arm slid up to rest on the curve of her hip. She, in turn, let her own arm rest atop his. He felt at peace and it was like the ocean breeze, calm and sweet. His arms wrapped fully around her waist holding her as close to himself as he could. Wordlessly, she shifted turning in toward him, her smooth face rested in the dip of his shoulder. There they stood, staring out at the darkening sea, still but for the sway of the breeze.
And breathing in, throat dry, eyes wet: he blinked away the dampness.
Never before would he have been able to just stand still like this. Not before her. He would never have been content to be still before. Or comfortable enough to hold someone so close. There was no one left to hurt him- no controlling father, no violent sister. He felt at peace.
Because he couldn't imagine sharing this moment with anyone else.
*Ship ZUTARA for life! Happy Zutara month ;)