let's pretend (conversation at the cliffside)
-family-
.-.-.
"Tell me how you think our future family would look like," Tenzin asked casually one lazy autumn afternoon, lounging against a large maple, stirring up the leaves at his feet with tiny swirls of wind.
Lin tensed beside him. "This is purely hypothetical, of course?"
"Of course," Tenzin echoed.
He felt her relax and tilt her head, resting it against his shoulder as a shrug rolled off her reclining form. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt," he heard her mumble quietly, more to herself than anything. He slouched down slightly to rest his head atop of hers, closing his eyes briefly, relishing in the feel of her body next to his and the fresh scent of her hair.
"Well," she began, "first of all, we would be the strongest, most powerful, and most attractive couple Republic City has ever seen."
Tenzin chuckled and pressed a kiss onto the back of her head.
"Nothing unexpected but I still felt it needed to be said. I know what you're really wondering, though, Tenzin." She hesitated slightly. "So, um, children. I could see two of them..."
"Only two?" Tenzin interjected.
"Yes, only two. Could you even imagine me voluntarily going through childbirth more than twice?" she quipped, rolling her eyes.
Tenzin smiled thinly. "No."
"Exactly." She nuzzled into the crook of his neck. "Only two, and only for you. Or, spirits be damned, I refuse to get pregnant."
He marveled at how scathing and abrasive she could sound while simultaneously snuggling up to him, her delicate form nested into his side. The dichotomy was classic Lin. "Two children because I expect an earthbender and an airbender," she continued, "naturally."
"What if that didn't happen? What if we had two non-benders, or an earthbender and a non-bender, or two earthbenders—"
"This is my imaginary future-family," interrupted Lin, jabbing her fist affectionately into Tenzin's leg, "and it's going to happen exactly the way I want. So, quiet, you."
Tenzin made a face, massaging the spot on his leg. "Please, continue."
"There would be a girl and a boy, I don't really care in what order, or who had what bending. We would train both of them ourselves. They would both learn techniques from the other's bending discipline—actually, from all four of the bending disciplines—that'd give them a well-rounded education and maximize their understanding of bending in general." She smirked. "They'd also be unbeatable in a fight."
Tenzin smiled ruefully. "No surprises there, Lin." He reached over to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "What do you think they'd look like?"
Lin shrugged and made a noncommittal grunt. "I guess it would be nice if the boy had my eyes and the girl had yours... as long as they both had a full head of hair!" She laughed and stood abruptly with the help of a little earthbending, scattering a pile of dried leaves; Tenzin gave a short yelp as he lost his balance and toppled over, not expecting his companion's quick maneuver. He shot her an exasperated glare. "I'm being serious, Lin. I really wanted to know what you think about this."
"You're always serious, Tenzin," she replied airily, her face towards Yue Bay. There was an elongated pause. When Lin spoke again, her voice was tight. "I just decided I'm done talking about this."
For several moments, they said nothing, listening to the crash of waves as they broke against the cliffside.
Tenzin stood, brushing off his dirt-stained robes. He fought off the vague sense of anxiety bubbling in his stomach and approached her from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist. "I'm sorry if I upset you, Lin," he finally mumbled, hugging her. "I just, I think about this a lot, you know? My dad and I are the last airbenders and, sooner or later, it's going to be my responsibility to carry on the bloodline of the Air Nomads. So, for me, starting a family is not hypothetical..." he trailed off when he felt Lin go stiff in his arms. "Lin," her name came out like a plea. "Look, maybe you're not ready, maybe it wasn't the right time, I'm sorry..."
"I'm not upset," she replied, but her breath caught a little; she tried to disguise it by clearing her throat. Reaching into her pocket, she took out and began to manipulate a small piece of metal. Tenzin watched quietly as she formed a tiny, smooth-edged heart in the palm of her hand.
"I heard my mom made this corny little token for someone, once, when she was a girl. Except it was made of earth." Lin closed her fingers around it. "Tenzin, I... I really do care about you. I love you. I always have and you know that and—and you're a jerk for making me say it out loud," she muttered. When she opened her hand the heart was stretched out, flattened into a reflective disk. She held it up and Tenzin could just barely make out a pair of familiar faces staring back at him, one with pale green eyes, the other deep blue-gray.
"There's so much I want to do in life. I want to prove myself. I want to make my mom proud. I want to become an earthbending and metalbending master and find a meaningful career. But, right now? I can only see the two of us," Lin exhaled.
Tenzin paused for half a second before placing his hand against her cheek, turning their bodies in unison. He kissed her with everything he had, and, as their lips moved against the other, he hoped it would erase every shred of uncertainty from her mind.
They finally broke apart, breathless.
"I love you too, Lin," he whispered against her lips. "So much. You have no idea. Please, allow me to be by your side no matter what your goals are. As long as I can be with you."
Because the future be damned and familial obligation momentarily forgotten: for now they could pretend it was just the two of them.