Silent Impressions
By SP

He sees her, every so often, mostly in the same place.

She sits, one ankle tucked behind the other, on the same bench facing the lake in the Park, reading a book with a different cover every time he sees her. Her bright robes sway around her lithe form, giving the aura that the air is manipulated to her every move.

Skoochy thinks that does walk on air. Sometimes. It's more than he can do anyhow.

Her tattoos give her away, with her bangs partially obscuring the light blue arrow on her forehead. She grew her hair out longer a while ago (when he first noticed her), almost ashamed of her markings. But why? He would kill to stand out, to be noticed, to be nodded to and talked with by people like her. Most people were scared off by a brief word or look, before her nose would be stuck back in those dusty pages.

He wishes she came more often. To the park at least. He's seen her siblings - the loud girl with her flyaway ponytail and scraped elbows, the boy with the misshapen bald head who's antics are beginning to rival Skoochy's (including purchasing the entire City's supply of mangos to pelt unsuspecting pedestrians from building roofs), and the younger boy who sticks to his father's robes at all times, quiet but watching everything. She probably has to watch over them all the time. Has her hands full. He knows that feeling, taking care of the orphans and the older guys who don't know how to fend for themselves.

That's why she's rarely alone. That's why he wants to escape. That's why he savors every moment they have in the park, since that's all they'll ever have.

He always knows when she condescends to visit the actual city, alone for that matter. Her glider would appear to be a low-flying bird to an ignorant passerby, but he's used to her slowly touching ground on the rooftops by the park. She might peruse the local marketplace, on her way in or out, and always tries to buy something. Just to help the horrible economy, he thinks.

Today an apple sits by her side, forgotten. Skoochy doesn't know if he should slowly walk on the path in front of her, camouflaging himself with the other lackadaisical park-goers, or to plop on the bench in front of her, to silently admire the curve of her hair and the way her long fingers trace the designs on her books and how her eyes flicker up when he starts on the path and linger on him, as if she's been looking for him too.

That's obviously not true.
But not impossible.

Skoochy continues down the hard-packed dirt path, weighing to sit down on the inviting bench on the other side of the path, or to go to Central City and be a productive member of society. Correction: be a productive member of the society no one wants to talk about or wish they knew of.

Her eyes flicker between her book and him, and he wants to know how it's even possible that she'd notice his scruffy clothes and unkempt hair and scraggly stubble.

He chooses the bench option.

The bench shakes as he flops down in the middle of it. With his arms outstretched on the back, he tilts his head to give the appearance he's watching every part of the park but the girl - no, woman - in front of him. In the corner of his eye, he sees her eyes moving rapidly over those pages. Who can read that fast? How is that even possible?

He keeps her attention fully trained on her now, tense and ready chase her down if she abruptly gets up, willing to even tell her everything he knows about her, from her age (seventeen and four months) to her favorite shop (the Book Rack, on sixth and seventeenth) to the last book she read (The Romance of the Four Nations, but he's seen her with it before and doesn't know if that would count). He would drag her over to the bushes or to the quietest alleys that he knows and try to learn more about her, anything about her, to drink everything she embodies and is until his heart and head are overflowing with all the knowledge and love he has for her.

Then again, love is a strong word.

Skoochy spins himself back to reality. He sneaks a complete glance at Jinora, though he knows he's just another street rat compared to the likes of her. The thing is, this time he's not really allowed to take in her high cheekbones or the collar of her robes tickling her jawline. Since's she's staring him down as well.

A smile teases the corners of his mouth as he remains blissfully ignorant, at least from her perspective. It's about time she's noticed him, though it might not be the first time. But the fun is over all too soon, as their eyes invariably make eye contact all too soon.

The few moments of stark silence and inner understanding is all it takes for Skoochy's slight smile to grow into a full-brown grin, even going to the point where he tips his cap at the lovely airbender. This only makes her face match her deep red sash and her lips gape at him. He tries the "damage control" route, sticking his hands in his pockets (with a few fingers slipping into the holes that haven't been sewn yet) and begins to stand, but she rises from her bench at the same time, albeit more quickly.

His smile fades as she starts down the path, book in hand and tucking her hair behind her ear. The young earthbender's shock shifts to urgency as he snags the forgotten apple from her previously-occupied bench and jogs down the path behind her, his shoes scraping against his sockless feet.

"Miss! Miss!" Much to his added annoyance, the blatant ignoring of him strikes him as odd. As little knowledge he has of her, she'd never ignore someone, especially when the immediate area was deserted.

"Miss Jinora!" The line escapes his lips before he can think, knowing the backlash will come as she halts in her tracks. The woman turns to him, clutching her book to her chest, her chest rising and falling at an increased rate and her eyes mixed with fear and… interest?

"H-how do you know my name?" Her tone is elegant, commanding even. His eyes stay fixed on the bridge of her nose, the eyelashes framing her dark eyes, anything but actual eye contact.

"You're Councilman Tenzin's daughter. You're always in the papers." Skoochy hates his harsh city accent, feeling even more inferior to her now. "You forgot this… back there." He stretches his arm out, apple in his palm, to her.

If she's annoyed by his forthcoming, she makes no sign of it, only blinking at the seemingly innocent fruit. "That's right," she says almost under her breath, like the one hope that someone would know her without her father's shadow looming over any interaction she has. He doesn't know what to say, no words to relate or console or understand. It's a silence he knows he can't wheedle his way out of for once.

Her fingers linger on his palm, maybe more than what is considered "proper" by society's standards, to take the apple from him. "Thank you, Mister…" He raises an eyebrow at her, as he could never guess that one who reads so much could be speechless.

"Oh!" He registers her ineptitude. "It's Skoochy, miss. And don't think anythin' of it. I was just wanderin' about."

Now it's her turn to smile - and what a lovely, charming smile it is. "Well thank you, Mister Skoochy. I've seen you wandering around." Her smile lessens a bit - but why? It couldn't, shouldn't be nerves. She's so much better than that. She should know that, or at least be told that. "For a while now."

Really?

"Maybe I'll see you again soon." He scrambles to read between the lines as she reaches out her arm to him, to shake hands and say their goodbyes, for now and maybe the next few days, weeks, spirits know how long. She'll retire to Air Temple Island to deal with the cooking and teaching and learning she still has to take care of, while he's scrounge about for a meal tonight and perhaps wander the city streets when the stars are out, using the little balls of air and gas to count the reasons why this girl has taken his breath away.

He takes her smooth and soft hand in his grubby and calloused hands and bends his lips to her knuckles, pressing there for only a few brief seconds. Jinora's fingers grip his as he sneaks a glance to her blushing face.

"I saw that in a silent picture once." The corners of his mouth quirk up in a small smirk. "I figured this was my only shot to do it."

Her hand lowers but doesn't let go of his as her laughter rings out, and Skoochy can't help but to think it's the most pleasing, beautiful sound that he's heard and wants to hear it over and over again. And he only wants more of her, now and every day that he'll live.

AN: Hola! I'm not excellent at writing fluffy stuff, but this is my best shot! I have a few projects going on that are in a bit of a rut, so this is just what I've produced that I've actually liked so far. I haven't written anything for ATLA/LOK in ages, and I hope y'all liked it. Please R&R if you want!

Thanks,
SP