A/N: i was super late with this one, but i couldn't write it to save my life. the prompt for day four was storms, and hopefully the smut inside will offset how poorly i wrote it. cheers, and thanks for reading! feedback is always welcome. ~TA
When she wakes up that morning, she knows there's going to be a storm.
From her perch in the bed, Katara can see the angry steel of the clouds roll about in the darkened sky, can hear the muffled roar of the water surrounding Air Bender Island as it turns vicious, pounding up against the beach and the rough, jagged rocks of the sanctuary. Wind is blowing around the highest of the towers and, far off in the distance, she swears she can hear the faint rumble of thunder.
It's not a day to challenge nature.
She stretches, languorously sliding her limbs along the wrinkled silk of the bed-sheets beneath her as she contemplates the rage of the sky, her head heavy with sleep despite her best efforts to rouse herself. She's gone to bed late and woken up early every day for a fortnight, and it still doesn't match Aang's schedule, where he snatches an hour or two of rest for every twelve that he has to work.
But today might be different.
She slips from the bed and reaches for her robe, tightening the cord around her waist as she creaks open the door leading out into the corridor and peeks outside. It's empty and silent, good news for her. Quietly, she darts down the hall towards the hidden staircase, and makes her way past, silent as a ghost.
She finds Aang in the meditation pavilion, seemingly oblivious to the mounting tempest around him. Drops of rain are already starting to splash down and the wind is whistling with a growing ferocity by the time Katara reaches him, her hair windswept and her robe not so much preserving her modesty, but presenting itself as a display of windborne spite.
"Aang?"
Her husband starts in surprise and turns to look at her, his eyes widening as he takes in Katara's dishevelled appearance.
"Sweetie! What are you doing out here?"
"I came looking for you." She smooths down her robe and does her best to scrape her hair back off her face, although Katara feels like she's fighting a losing battle, all things considered. "You weren't in bed this morning."
Aang rises to his feet, topping his wife's height by a good foot and a half, and bestows upon her one of his famous smiles, the kind known to charm belligerent criminals into soothing a frazzled little boy. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry you. I just realized it's been a while since I've meditated, and I thought, since the Temple would be pretty empty today, that I could have some time to try."
"Empty?" It occurred to Katara that Aang was right: the normally bustling island was nearly devoid of people whatsoever; not even a cleaner had been spotted, let alone one of the acolytes, those that had begun immigrating to Air Temple Island in droves, eager to learn about the Air Bending culture from the last of the Air Benders himself.
Aang stretched his arms behind his back, wincing as his shoulders popped faintly. "Most of them went into town yesterday. I didn't want them to risk the storm to come back in."
As if on cue, the sky lets out an ominous rumble, and rain starts falling in earnest around them. Katara feels the rage of the ocean in her bones; it itches under her skin and crawls up her spine and she feels reckless, impetuous.
Her hand reaches out and pulls on the sash around Aang's waist, and she crushes her lips to his before he has time to flash her his smug, sexy smirk.
She shrugs off her robe as Aang backs her up against one of the corners of the pavilion, his hands already sliding up her legs as her hands scrambles to undo the knot of his tunic, relentless and greedy and quick. Any idea of a lazy, tender day in bed are gone in the frantic movement of their bodies as Aang wraps her leg around his waist and drops biting kisses along her collarbone, his pants ringing in her ears as Katara arches her back and presses up against him, desperate and needy. Clothing drops to the floor as Aang thrusts up into her warm heat, his groan drowned out by the crack of thunder that bursts from the heavens.
Her nails rake down Aang's back as he sets up a gruelling pace, one hand braced against the support pole that Katara is pressed up against, the other curled around her hip, hard enough to leave a bruise. They've made love a thousand times since they've been married: long, breathless hours in their bedroom, ending only at dawn, and slow, sleepy mornings. 'Welcome home' sex and 'thank god you're alive' sex and 'you look so fucking sexy when you're training,' sex. Even so, the demand of their bodies as Aang fucks her against a column steals Katara's breath away, the desperate need practically setting her ablaze.
The wind shrieks around them and they hold on to each other for all they're worth, a force of nature that the ocean cannot hope to comprehend. When Katara comes, she does so with a cry that rivals the force of the thunder beating out a beat above her. Aang tightens his grip on her as he finishes, his kiss hard and demanding and everything she needs.
Outside, the storm rages on.