Disclaimer: All of this belongs to Bryke.

Breathing. In. Out. In. Out. All benders were taught to control the air inside them from a very young age. Firebending involves the warm breath in your nostrils. Waterbending requires a rationing of breath. Earthbending uses breath to steady movements.

"Now Lin, I want you dig your feet into the earth. Solid stance! Not like Twinkletoes and Junior over here…"

"Toph! I wanted to surprise you and Lin with our visit," laughed a middle aged Aang, stepping out from behind a large tree, his son Tenzin in tow. Lin jumped back, startled. "But I always seem to forget that you can feel us coming."

"Well, that's convenient for me, but I think you may have scared Lin here. She's just learning how to sense the world through her feet in her earthbending lessons. But, maybe she's just nervous for other reasons…" replied Toph, looking pointedly at Tenzin and winking at her eight year old daughter.

Lin turned bright red and ground around her ankles tightened. She shot her mother a look of loathing, which went completely unseen. As Toph and Aang went inside to chat, Tenzin approached Lin.

"I saw you earthbending earlier. It thought you were really good." The young boy said with a blush.

Lin squinted her eyes at him dangerously. "Are you kidding? I was awful today. I just can't seem to get this one move right!"

"You weren't that bad," Tenzin insisted, "But my dad always says the key to bending is the breath. Concentrate, find your center, and focus on breathing in and out."

Lin thought about this for a second. She widened her stance, dug her heels into the earth, and took a deep breath. As she exhaled, she sent a large boulder flying across the clearing. It pummeled against the opposite rock wall with a triumphant thud.

"Nice one, Lin!" shouted Toph from inside the house. "Now that's what I want!"

"Thanks Tenzin." said Lin, grinning. He smiled back at her and it felt like the air had been sucked from her chest, replaced by an odd fluttery feeling she had never quite experienced before.

That initial loss of breath seemed a precursor to their eventual relationship, which did not begin until they were teenagers. Lin was always too proud to admit to her crush on Tenzin, (though it was obvious to most everyone and was the subject of near constant teasing from her mother). When the seventeen year old Tenzin finally sat down with Lin and tried to explicate his feelings for her, the words simply would not come out properly. As he blubbered and gasped, Lin did the only rational thing she could think of. She took his breath away with a kiss.

The times she most remembers his breathing are her memories of them being tangled together. Skin to skin, nothing but air being squeezed and sucked and stolen between their lips. They collapse on top of each other, out of breath and gasping in synch. Lin curls up against his chest, feeling the rise and fall. Air flowing in and out.

There's always been something about him that Lin has never understood. She's never known what to call it. His airiness? No, that's not right. He's not air-headed or flighty. Even his father was more spontaneous than he was. No, Tenzin had a different sort of air surrounding him. It was as if at any second, he could somehow disappear somewhere else entirely; his mind and body blown away by the wind.

Lin relied so much on the ground. It kept her sane. It kept her steady. It kept her believing that somehow if she tethered on strong enough; if she dug her heels into the dirt harder, she would always be able to keep him in her grip. But Lin did not realize that you can't hold on to air. You can't inhale without the following exhale.

They've been together for years now, but she's been getting that airy feeling from Tenzin more and more. He keeps talking about children and family and spirits and tradition and love, but these are floaty concepts that Lin winces at. She has more immediate goals: becoming chief of police, fighting, saving lives, and honoring her mother's death. These are the real things, the ones Tenzin should care about. They argue more and more. They disagree about everything, but Lin concentrates, keeps a solid stance, and breathes. In. Out. In. Out.

One day it just happens.

"Lin, we can't do this anymore. We've tried to make sacrifices. We've tried to work this out, but deep down we want different things. I can't ask you to change who you are. You are so strong. So beautiful. So grounded. But more and more, I feel like I'm suffocating you."

"But—" her voice cracked, and the earth beneath her began to quiver and slip. "I love you." It was barely above a whisper. Tenzin closed his eyes, and Lin knew that even if he did hear, he was somewhere else already. She clenched her fists. To her, love was the one concept that wasn't only spiritual. It was visceral, it was real, and even though it was right in front of her, she could not bend it to her will. She simply watched as Tenzin walked away.

And she was alone. Earth beneath her feet, grasping at the wind that danced through her fingers. She stood emotionless until he was well out of sight. As a lone teardrop trickled from the corner of her otherwise stoic face, a single thought rang through her head.

How can you live without the air in your lungs?