. modern .
She's dressed like a woman from film noir today- blood red lips, inky hair hanging down her back, a cigarette perched between two fingers. At a glance, she doesn't look the part of senator's daughter, not without her pricy school clothes or impeccable posture, not without Azula carefully tracking her every move. For now, she's just Mai- just his, and they are alone.
"Do you want to leave?" he suddenly inquires. The parking lot of In-N-Out Burger is the worst place imaginable when it comes to these kinds of life-changing questions, but it comes spilling from his mouth before he can contain it.
She raises a quizzical eyebrow, takes a deep, hacking draught to steady herself. "I know what you mean," she begins slowly, "but you should know that I can't go with you."
"Why not?" he demands, hating how petulant his voice sounds and trying to deepen it. "I have a job, I have a place for us to live. You hate it here."
"I'm seventeen," she reminds him, blowing out a puff of smoke into the hazy, cold twilight. "A minor girl and her adult boyfriend, running away from home- you really don't see how the police would have a field day with that? My parents don't give a damn, but even they'll probably notice I've left for good after a couple months."
"I didn't think this through, did I?" he asks, deflated. He feels like an idiot kid, running his mouth off about the glamor of being on your own when he knows the grim realities first hand. Of course it's not some weekend trip to Santa Barbara. Was he expecting that she'd immediately acquiesce and run to pack her bags, run to abandon everything in favor of shacking up with a disowned ex-heir who's working towards an English lit degree and lives in an apartment where having the heating on for a week straight counts as an accomplishment?
"You never think anything through," Mai chides, more gently than he'd expected. "It's a nice offer, but if I leave here, I want to do it for myself. Not because Prince Charming decided to save the princess from her happy ending."
Her entire life has been defined by others, Mother-Father-Azula molding her into whatever their hearts desired- doll, heiress, weapon, sycophant, puppet. She needs to break free of Plasticville and its sickening inhabitants on her own- he gets that. But the more selfish, primal part of him wants a filled side of the bed, her jasmine scent imprinted onto the sheets. "I miss you," he finally says, though the words can't nearly convey what he means.
"So do I," she admits in a quiet whisper, almost to herself. Then she flips her phone open, checks the lit display. "7:05. I might make it in time for Mom's gala if I run."
He kisses her, briefly, feels the warm ash on her tongue and the swell of her chest against his. "You're coming back, right?" It's a stupid game to play, but his life has been full of people vanishing into shadows when he least expects.
She smiles. "Maybe." After she's gone a few steps, however, she stops and rotates to face him. "I turn eighteen in five months, three weeks, and six days," she remarks. "I might consider it, then. Clean out your foyer before I visit, will you? There's no room for any of my targets."
Five months, three weeks, and six days. From her, that's the closest he'll ever get to a yes.
A/N: So this is part of an elaborate AU headcanon where Zuko is a starving artist living in the Castro while Mai is a bored heiress, and both of them sneak around to maikout with each other in peace. My muse has been utterly hijacked by said headcanon.