1/3: COSMIC
Everything that kills the disgraced princess makes her feel alive.
Ty Lee wants to do something about it, but she does not know how. She feels like a fake friend, a fake. . . everything. It is not a problem she has ever had to confront, but the guilt that has built inside of her for years and years makes her ache and burn and her dreams are full of bright blue flames.
"Please break up with her," Zuko whispers. His face flushes when he says it, probably from his shame. Ty Lee thinks he should be ashamed of those words, and she wonders when she became such a bad friend. Maybe she is a bad friend. "I know you want to help her but I think that she is—"
"Hopeless," Ty Lee snaps.
"That wasn't what I was going to say," Zuko replies. His eyebrow twitches when he says it, probably from his shame again.
"It's what you meant. Don't tell me you haven't daydreamed about anybody or anything that's impossible. You dreamed about catching the Avatar when everybody said there was no hope." Ty Lee glares at him with a ferocity she did not know she had in her.
"You. . . make a good point," Zuko admits.
He stares at the stone table beneath his hands. It looks vaguely like a night sky, flecks of white paint adorning Royal Obsidian. It is such an ugly table, but when he was banished, he would do anything to be leaning on this hideous furniture.
"I don't think we're even together."
"You're sleeping together."
"Those aren't the same. Ask Suki."
"Stop making this about me! I'm sorry. I'm sorry for yelling like that."
"I know you are. I think Azula can be who—"
"You want her to be. She's a wreck and you just want to fix the bad girl," Zuko states firmly. "Oh, she's just a hurt little girl underneath that horrible surface."
Ty Lee averts her eyes. Then she conjures courage again.
"You were the first person to try to help her."
"It didn't work. I know she's not fully horrible, but she wants to play the villain and I'm going to let her because my sister doesn't bend to anyone. If the sky fell on her she would break it for trying to touch her without permission."
"She lets me touch her without permission." Ty Lee feels uncomfortable about that assertion. "I'm in love with her and I'm going to keep trying. I will not stop, because someday she could be like you. But sexier."
"Hey."
"You're very sexy. I'm not sure if you're my type, though." She pats his shoulder, gives him a teasing wink, and goes to find Azula outside.
It is a cold night for summer and Ty Lee tries to ignore how quickly she begins to shiver. There she is. She is not herself because she never is. Ty Lee does not tolerate it, but she knows that controlling Azula is not the right way to go. But she won't let Azula destroy herself either.
Those are the lessons she has learned.
Ty Lee sits down beside the princess. She is looking somewhat disdainfully at the sky.
"What?"
"I'm imagining things moving in it. Or my vision is maybe just blurry. I am seeing about three of you. All of them look like you are trying to be my mother."
"That's gross." Ty Lee crosses her arms and lets her thigh rest against Azula's eyes as she leans back and looks up. No words are needed for a few lengthy moments. "You're not imagining things. I just saw two."
"They're so small. It's pathetic."
"Yeah. Probably." Ty Lee does not know what to say. "You stare at things way too often. You need a hobby. I'll find you a hobby."
"Oh, my participation in a hobby is very expensive."
"I'll pay it. Because, seriously, you're like really boring."
"I will pretend you did not say that."
"I'll pretend you don't say that all the time."
Their argument does not progress very far, because Azula kisses Ty Lee's lips.
That feels so right, even though it probably is wrong. Ty Lee has slept with Azula exclusively when she is livid or drunk or hiding vulnerability or all three. Those don't. . . they don't count, do they? It's probably one of those right now, but Ty Lee is too cold and too hot to think about it.
She never did like the lines between right and wrong.
Ty Lee leans in closer.
They shouldn't.
They do.
They wouldn't lie; it is the only thing that makes them feel alive.