College!Zutara requested by thankfulforthemystery on tumblr.
I figure that college isn't quite sex and parties (I'm working on my undergrad degree and I'm like the soberest person you've ever met), but instead terrible jobs and a lot of comfort food. Not to mention that tea is the best! :3
At first, she's just that girl.
Every Tuesday and Thursday, an hour before closing, she orders the same drink. Bubble tea, not coffee. Green tea, tapioca bubbles. Not jelly. A chocolate chip oatmeal muffin. Not blueberry. 50 cent tip, thin ink stained fingers (there's a pen tucked behind one ear and a sketch pad under one arm). Wild curly hair, skin a few shades darker than chai tea. Blue eyes, like nothing else he's ever seen.
She always smiles at him, asks how his day is going. He stammers something back (Zuko's never been the best tea shop boy that ever was) and she smiles a little wider. The tea shop is always a little quiet before closing; instead of studying for midterms he watches her pore over medical textbooks.
He tries to ignore her. Zuko has enough issues in his own life. He doesn't even know the girl's name. He doesn't want to know what the girl's name is (No, he doesn't wonder as she swishes out of the shop—he didn't even know people could move like that—a few minutes before closing).
It's really hard to ignore her.
"What's your name?" she asks one day.
It's raining outside and Zuko feels more irritable than usual (he had dreamed of his mother the night before). The girl looks lonely, wrapped in a heavy shawl. Her curls are damp, limp around her small face.
"I see you here all the time." she offers, as if it is an apology.
He blinks. Plenty of girls want to know his number (his name on occasion too), but he doesn't see that same glint in her eyes. She just looks lonely.
"Zuko," he offers, gathering her cup and plate, "I am always here."
Unexpectedly, she smiles, "What's your major?"
He clears his throat.
"Business."
"Pre-med," she says, "This is my second year."
He'd expected the conversation to putter out after a few minutes, but she manages to extend that to almost half an hour. They talk about school at first, but quickly find that they both share many interests. Martial arts: he's got a black belt in Taekwondo and she's into Wing Chun. They both like reading Shakespeare: she loves Much Ado About Nothing and he's entranced by Macbeth. She's allergic to bananas, he can't stand tea.
"Tea?" she cries, "You work in a tea shop!"
Her hair has begun drying out, curling tightly into a jungle of hair. She doesn't wear any makeup, but she's missing an earring. He tries to pull his mind away from her and explain how his uncle owns the shop. Zuko works there free of payment and the old man covers what his financial aid won't.
"Iroh is your uncle?" she asks, "But you're so…."
"Moody?" he asks.
"I was going to say serious," she says, "Maybe a little cuter."
He can't help the way his face flushes, but the girl doesn't seem to notice. Her phone beeps. She checks it and her eyebrows just about jump off her face. She sighs.
"My brother's car broke down and he's got work in half an hour," she says, "I have to run."
"Ah, right, yeah," he says, jumping out of the opposite chair and gathering the dishes, "It was nice meeting you."
"Likewise," she says, "I'll see you next week!"
It's not until she's burst out the door, into the rain, that Zuko realizes he never caught her name. He suddenly wants to know everything there is to know about this girl, resolves to ask her first thing Tuesday. But until then, it's time to begin the arduous task of closing the shop. His uncle hums from the back, he can hear the dishes clinking. Zuko takes the dishes to the kitchen.
"Have you closed the shop?" the old man asks.
Zuko nods wordlessly (he's not sure he wants to wait until next Tuesday to find out her name). He hands the dishes to his uncle and turns to retrieve the broom. They really need to get around to hiring another server; it's too much work for just two.
"Ah," his uncle says, "I think our favorite customer took an interest to you."
Zuko blinks. Iroh hands him an earring, a tiny pearl on a silver chain. There's a tiny piece of paper stuck through it.
"She's certainly subtle." his uncle remarks dryly.
His nephew hardly notices. There's a number on the square and a name scrawled in ink.
Katara
Zuko grins.