Zuko removed the blindfold from Katara's eyes, his hands only very slightly shaky. He held his breath, waiting for her reaction, waiting for her to throw up or start screaming or turn around and slap him across the face-
She gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. Zuko gulped, squeezing the cloth in his hand like it was a lifeline. "I, uh, I- you," he began, stuttering like a blubbering fool, and looked up into the flame lifting the war balloon as if the words he needed to say were hanging there and he could just pluck them out of thin air. He sighed, giving up - no, the words weren't there at his disposal. "I know this balloon isn't anywhere near as nice as, say, Appa-" he coughed, then scratched the back of his head, feeling his face grow warm, "but it's all I could come up with on such short notice-"
Katara whirled, accidentally kicking the wicker basket that held the bread rolls and rice wine that he knew she liked, even though he hated it. One eyebrow was cocked, and she crossed her arms over her chest. "Short notice?" she repeated, lower lip in a pout. She started tapping her foot. Zuko opened his mouth to speak, racking his brain for a safe way to cover up his words, when Katara's lips were on his, and his thoughts melted. He sighed into her mouth and gathered her closer. "Happy anniversary," he murmured, and he could feel her smiling.