A/N: So I made this story pretty much forever ago, but I didn't get too many good reviews on it and I was feeling terrible about myself and my writing and decided I wanted to start all over again and I deleted ALL of my stories. For some reason though, this one has stayed in my brain and I want to write it again! I hope you all give it another chance! Love ya! Mwah!

I Hate Being Married To You

"Thursday night, everything's fine

Except you've got that look in your eye

When I'm telling a story, and you find it boring"

A young woman sat on a couch in her living room, grasping a a packet of papers in her small tan hands.

Her skin was tan and smooth, and her eyes as deep and blue as the ocean. Chocolate brown hair fell to her waist and her long and tan legs were tucked under her small and petite (yet surprisingly toned and strong) frame

The Alaskan woman squinted at the papers in front of her. She almost wished that some God in the sky would help her out by suddenly catching the papers on fire so she wouldn't have to focus on them anymore.

She heard a soft meow from her feet and she bent down and picked up the cream kitten at her feet, which immediately went limp and began purring in her hands. She guessed she knew why they called them rag doll cats now.

Suddenly she heard the heavy oak front door open and the alarm system beeped once to signify that a door was open. If the woman had not put the damn thing on mute, that feminine monotone would have said "front door open". Her husband was annoying enough, she didn't need anything else to grind on her nerves.

Speaking of husbands, it was her husband that stepped through the door. She glanced up at him as he entered.

He was tall, lean, muscular, handsome and he knew it. He had cat-like golden eyes and thick eyelashes, however over one eye was a large circular burn mark that had been given to him by his father when he was a child. His black hair fell into his eyes, and his Dior suit clung to his toned form. He looked every part of the perfect CEO.

After observing him, she shrugged. None of that changed the fact that he was a dick.

"Are you listening, Katara?!" Her husband asked and Katara snapped out of her thoughts and realized that she had been starring at him and he had been talking to her. Oops.

"No. You usually don't say anything worth listening to." She said in a sweet voice and he basically growled at her.

"Yeah and you don't really do anything apparently. You bitch so much that I get you something to tide you over and you end up not doing anything but holding its' weird body in your hands." He said, before storming past Katara's perch on the couch and into the kitchen.

She simply rolled her eyes and continued examining the papers that lay in front of her...that was until her husband's rumbling voice got her attention.

"No dinner?" He asked, suddenly behind her. "And you still haven't finished studying that script yet. Today is... Thursday. Your commercial is tomorrow morning."

Katara's eye brow twitched in annoyance. "First of all, Zuko, you're a grown man, you can fix your own food. People may kiss your ass at work and your whore secretaries may prance around getting your food or coffee, but I refuse. Second of all, I am now done with the script. It's hard being a master in the art of traditional Chinese fighting."

Zuko scoffed. "Oh yes, water bending, so difficult. Katara, you do so much work! You participate in fights and demonstrations maybe twice a month and when you get press opportunities or acting opportunities you refuse to do it unless it involves some sort of 'martial arts'. I own a company, you own... a pussy." He said, directing his eyes to the cat.

"It IS difficult! You only know the ancient fire bending style, which can't hold a candle to water bending. I kick butt and I always win millions when I fight "twice a month" and with that prize money I basically bought this mansion!" Katara fired back, shooting up from the couch, and placing the kitten in her spot instead.

There was anger flickering between them, like a current of electricity. Finally Katara figured out how to get her revenge and she pulled out her cell phone.

"Let's get pizza for dinner." She said, smiling. Zuko was taken aback. Pizza was one of those meals that they both enjoyed. When he was 18, and she was 16, he took her to a pizza parlor on their first date. They argued on the drive over and he should have known better then.

But she was so beautiful, talented, strong, opinionated, and smart that he just couldn't resist her. And now, even after he was terrible to her, she was ordering something that she knew he liked.

Sure he was under a lot of stress from work, owning a company was difficult, and to boot it was his abusive father's old company that he inherited. Being the first born had its perks he guessed. He may have had an evil little sister that caused him to have even more beatings, but at least he got the company in the end.

Alas, he had gotten off on a tangent. He shouldn't be mean to his wife just because things were rough. He was about to apologize when suddenly Katara began talking into the phone for pizza delivery.

"Yes, I'll have a large pizza with Alfredo sauce instead of marinara, a lot of cheese, olives, and spinach." She rattled off, looking over her shoulder at Zuko to gauge his reaction.

He was allergic to both olives and spinach... and she knew that.

It was good that he hadn't apologized yet.

"KATARA!" He yelled and he ran towards his wife.

With a laugh of malicious intent, Katara took off running up the stairs until a pair of muscular arms wrapped around her waist and she and her husband toppled to the ground, her cell phone spinning away from her the way a murder's weapon does in a cheesy horror movie.

Zuko lurched forward on all fours and grasped the cell phone in his large hand.

"Actually we'd like a large pizza with extra marinara sauce, pepperoni, ground beef, and ham." He exhaled into the receiver.

"NO!" Katara shrieked. She could not stand too much pizza sauce and she was trying to eat vegan and that would RUIN her if that pizza got into her home and she smelled all that meat so soon after trying to stop eating that sort of thing.

Katara crawled to Zuko and grabbed his foot as he tried to stand, causing him to fall to the carpet.

The fight for the phone continued until eventually the person taking the order hung up. Zuko and Katara glared at each other...

….and were forced to compromise.

...

Zuko sat at one end of the long dining room table dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, almost mimicking his wife's outfit of a t-shirt and yoga pants.

They glared at each other from across the table until Katara began talking.

"So today, you won't believe what the kitten did? Oh yeah, we still need to name her, but anyways. She did the cutest thing. She did that thing that the breed is supposed to do when you pick them up, and she just went limp and purred the whole time and then later she wouldn't stop following me around. I went to take a shower and she just sat in there and waited. Later, we sat and watched a movie and then she suddenly headbutted me-." Katara stopped mid sentence as she looked up and saw that Zuko was just neatly eating his pizza, not saying a word, and also not paying attention to her.

He was totally not looking in her direction at all, he was showing not even a speck of interest.

Katara looked down at the glass plate that her pizza was on. She also looked around briefly to make sure that the kitten was by her feet, which she was.

If Zuko didn't want to listen to her, then fine. But she'd make him regret it.

Suddenly she picked up her plate and tossed it at Zuko.

"KATARA!"

A/N: I love this story, and I hope you all do too. Love ya'll. Mwah! If you all have any ideas or something else that you want me to write, please inbox me, and I will try my best! *blows kisses*