rise and fall...
. helium lost .
Author's Notes: The opening line just came to me, and the rest of the fic followed suit. There is character death up ahead, so beware. Meant to take place toward the end of the war.
Kill me now, she breathes, and let it be quick.
He holds her hand in his palm, those long nails curving, the talons of some bird of prey, as her lip curls back, the blood trickling down the side of her face as her hair falls past her shoulders in an inky-black wave. Her chest heaves up and down as she struggles to breathe, every inhale searing pain through her lungs, but she won't show it—oh, no, she'll never show it.
What's the matter? Are you afraid? Have you never killed someone before?
He gulps and there is a lump in his throat, threatening to overtake him as he looks into the coldly beautiful face of his tormentor, the fire raging around them, crackling and scoring the back of its neck with its heat. The sweat drips down his face and onto her slightly parted lips, but she doesn't care; instead, her tongue darts out like some sort of sick, curious red serpent and idly probes at the droplets.
You're weak; you're scared; you're...
"No," he says as he stands, dropping her hand, and it lies, draped across her flat stomach. He looks down at her, their golden eyes meeting and burning, flames licking closer and closer to them and rising behind him, throwing his face into the shadows. He opens his mouth and wants to say something else, tell her what he's been meaning to say for all these years, but all that emerges are short, quick breaths, the hot air stabbing his lungs, tearing them apart.
...you're mine.
He doesn't have any time to react as, in a single, swift movement, she raises her hand and sends a bolt of blue lightning at him, striking him straight in his heart.
Miles away, Katara, cradling Aang's unconscious body in her arms, hears a clap of thunder, and wonders if there will be a storm.
Author's Notes: I live on feedback. So feed a starving author. :)