"I love you."

Zuko whispers.

(But you left me)

You flush, your mind scatters. You, who prize yourself in being quick and sharp, are speechless.

"Mai?"

It is a question. You can see the hurt in his deep golden eyes, see it plainly set in the downturn of his lips. Those lips, so kissable.

(I didn't mean to hurt you)

He turns from you. The image of your nightmares.

(Come back, please)

Black hair falls forward into his face, for once he is not dressed as FireLord. But then again, when has he ever come to you dressed as the FireLord?

"Zuko?"

He turns toward you. His face, so pathetically lovable.

(Lovable?)

"I love you too."