Author's Note: Random Kataang.
Disclaimer: I don't own Avatar: The Last Airbender or "That Summer," by Garth Brooks. The lines stated are some of the loveliest I've ever heard.
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Unspoken Poison
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She had a need to feel the thunder
To chase the lightning from the sky
To watch a storm with all its wonder
Raging in her lover's eyes
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She runs a longing hand over the small family portrait.
Her fingers trace the outlines of her husband, her sons; they wander along the edges of her own form, and she feels tired, almost weary. Her two children are sleeping in the other room, and she should very well be asleep, too – but she cannot indulge in such a thing. Every slumbering moment is plagued with nightmares, and she simply can't stand another moment of it.
She leaves the portrait on the table and wanders around the house, restless. Her husband should have been home days ago. Her friend liked to remind her that days weren't really long lengths of time, but they both knew better; he would never be away a second longer than he had to.
The strength to cry hasn't been inside of her since his leave, and so not a tear has fallen from her eyes. Besides, she has to be strong for her children – if they saw her as weak, then they would lose their conviction in their knowledge of their father's impending return. She couldn't have that; no, they must believe that he will come home. She's just being irrational – of course he'll come home. A few extra hours is nothing, really, when the journey itself is a week, and his duties would surely have taken weeks more.
Her figure somehow finds its way to the front door, though she cannot recall directing herself there; her hand reaches with intentions of opening it, and in moments she finds herself staring into a bleak, gray evening. The world is dark; only a few meager candles are lit in the house and the illumination they offer is almost worthless. The oppressing clouds overhead blocked the moon and stars from view and bore back all intruding lights; they wanted darkness, and darkness they had.
As she walks outside, a cool breeze attempts to make her return to the confines of her dwelling; her thin blue clothing is no match for the chill that the light wind causes, and she wants to turn back. She doesn't, however; she doesn't know why, but she is drawn forward. She advances out of the reaches of her home's dim light and into the terrible darkness. Then she hears noise.
A large mass of air makes her step back, and suddenly she can see the outline of a great animal some twenty feet in front of her. She recognizes it immediately; her heart skips a beat, two, and suddenly the world no longer feels so bleak and foreign. She can recognize him. He easily descends from the creature with the help of his bending; she can hear the light thud as he lands and it takes every ounce of self-control in her body to not run forward and envelop him in her eager, impatient arms.
Her self-control is obviously greater than his; she can recognize the moment he sees her because he pauses for a brief moment, and then he hurries forward. As he comes forth she can make out certain features; his outline defines, the shade of his clothes is almost identifiable, and she can see his eyes as they recognize the very same things about her.
He stops in front of her, and he thinks to ask why she's outside at the hour; he wonders if she somehow knew he would come, but that shouldn't even really be a question. He feels that she did know, in a way; it may have been subconscious, but he believes that their bond is so strong that it's almost tangible, and he isn't surprised to see her in front of him anymore.
For the first time in over a month, she finds the strength to cry.
Tears fall from her eyes and she opens her mouth the say something, but the words are lost on her lips; she cannot think of a single thing worth uttering because there isn't one word that could ever effectively tell him how much she missed him, how much she loved him, how many nights she'd spent lying awake and praying to the Spirits that he'd return safe and sound.
He wants to reach to her face and brush away her tears with his thumb – he hates to see her cry; he knows, however, that these are tears of joy, and so he restrains himself. Instead, he wraps his arms around her, and finally she can see him clearly.
She spent so much time longing for this closeness, but she is afraid of what she sees; he does not draw her into a kiss, but allows her to evaluate. For when he pulled her to him, she finally saw his wistful, stormy gray eyes – and was frightened, because beside the love, the fulfillment, the joy and relief at being with her again, lurks something dark and ugly; she can identify it as a thousand things – pain, terror, despair, hurt, anguish – but she knows it to be exactly what it is (fear), and it causes her insides to ache with yearning to know what and why and how.
His fear creeps inside of her, spreading its poison; she wonders at the cause, but in a moment she somehow knows. He has only come to see her for a fleeting moment, and he will be gone again – and somehow they both understand that he won't come back.
They pull each other close, and the rest of the night is spent in this way; both find each other enveloped in the other's love, and time is not taken into account as they don't believe they'll ever find the strength to let go of each other. Thoughts of their children, of their friends, of their world swirl around in their minds, but for the most part they are concerned only with each other – because their time is limited, and while they know that their love can bridge physical distances with no problem, they wonder vaguely if it will withstand the break between the worlds – theirs and the Spirit world.
Time passes, and as it does, they come into the knowledge that they could be a thousand worlds away and that love would still be almost tangible and just as strong and close.