No copyright infringement intended. Second-person omnicent.

This isn't creepy. It's only pedo or stalker if you want it to be.


Your favorite place in the city is just over that little rise in the road. You haven't really been going there long, maybe a few weeks at best, but ever since you noticed the little girl that just started working there your visits get more and more frequent.

It's a tea shop, rumored to be the best in the whole Earth Kingdom. It was closed for awhile and people started going crazy, the tea was so good. Or so you were told; you haven't been living in Ba Sing Se long.

Today you grab a seat as the morning crowd is filing in. Their heads are down and their jaws are slackened, but you are alert. After putting in your order at the counter, you sit down at a seat close to the door and train your eyes on the kitchen door. You fold your hands and unfold them, cross your ankles and uncross them again, waiting for the moment that she enters with your tea.

You've seen her a few times before. Enough to know she is blind, anyway. You briefly wonder, not for the first time, whether or not she is an earthbender. Thinking of her tiny frame, you decide she probably isn't. Then again, she does move around the shop like a pro even without seeing. Perhaps she has worked here a long time, and knows the layout by heart?

You sigh and rub your forhead. You can feel a headache sinking in. You feel a pang in your stomach as you wish, certainly not for the first time, that you could have been a part of her life. You want to talk to her, to ask her everything. What is it like being blind? How long has she been working at the shop? Does she like anyone right now? Is there a special boy that makes her blush?

You hear the familiar squeak of the kitchen door opening and lift your head quickly. There she is, and you straighten your back and bite your lip when you see that she has your tea order on her tray. She makes her way toward your table, and your eyes are trained on her unfocused, staring ones.

She hands you the cup of steaming Jasmine tea. You watch her tiny arm extending across your table, and you kind of want to touch her. Right there, right on the inside of her wrist. You'd like to grab it one day and trace the veins with your forefinger. But you can't, because she's turning around, she's walking away, so instead you just grab your teacup and take a scalding sip.

It really is the best tea in the kingdom. You train your eyes on the little girl's back as she walks confidently away. She makes another stop at a different table. You watch her tiny waist moving underneath the dark green apron and wonder lazily how she got hired at such a young age. Maybe that old guy running the place is as into her as you are.

You blush and avert your eyes from the girl. What are you doing, thinking such dirty thoughts? You stare at your tea and blink as if awakening for the first time that morning.

You wonder briefly if something is wrong about your infatuation with the tiny servant. Is it wrong that you come here to gawk at her but never say anything? And surely you're much older than her. She seems so young, and even though you don't know her exact age it must be much less than yours. You swirl your pinky finger around in the tea. Sighing, you lift it up, watching the liquid drip off slowly and make ripples in the tea. Tiny legs, tiny hands, such wide eyes...

The kitchen door opens. By habit, you glance up quickly and see that the little tea girl has her hand on the doorknob. She's about to step through the door frame when someone over by the entrance makes a sound.

"Toph!" At least that's what you think he said...

She glances back. Is that her name?

The boy at the entrance strides quickly over to the tea girl. She is blushing a little. Such small cheeks... He grabs her hand lightly and she smiles.

"Ready to go?" he asks. Your eyes dip and close for a second, and you imagine his mouth on hers. You are happy for her, and hope absentmindedly that he will remember to trace the veins on her arm with his finger.

"Almost." This is the first time you have heard the tea girl -- no, Toph -- speak. Her voice is light and girlish, but not soft in volume at all. She removes her hand from his and takes off her apron. She balls it up in her fist and walks swiftly back into the kitchen. You watch her go, and after the door closes you stand up and weave your way toward the boy.

Before exiting through the door, you lean slightly toward him. In a soft voice barely audible even to you, you say:

"Be careful with her, okay?"

And on your way back home, you scan the streets for a new place to buy Jasmine tea.