Things We Don't Believe In
Her eyes flit to the faint glow that fights it's way beneath the door. Muffled sounds of laughter and music are further dulled by the pounding rhythm in her ears. Fingers twisting into pale green fabric hold her. But heated beams of amber, beating down the short distance from twin suns, keep her in place.
"You won't."
For a brief moment she almost believes it's the voice of Agni himself. Because it can't be Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation, this boy pressing her against the wall. The scar says "yes," but the rest says "no"--the clothes, the hair, the cracks she convinces herself she can almost see in the flickering candlelight. Cracks from where he had broken apart and then pulled himself together again. She squints, trying to tell if he had put the pieces back in the correct places. He only sees her eyes narrow, and his do the same.
"Won't…what?" She squirms a bit, suddenly aware of the molding pressing uncomfortably into her spine.
"Leave. No one can know I'm here."
The thrumming pulse in her head does not dull. Rather it intensifies, and suddenly the room, the sounds of the ball, and the boy before her all come into crisp focus. "I'll never let you take Aang!" She struggles against his grip on her wrists, gaze tearing a swath through her surroundings in search of liquid ammunition, her throat preparing for a tirade, but emitting only a surprised squeak as the warmth of his flesh easily releases and recedes.
"I don't want him."
She stares, blinks, and by the time she's peeled herself from the support of the wall, he's slouched down in the opposite corner. "You expect me to believe that?"
Silence.
Her eyes dart between the thin, steady sliver of golden illumination, and the faint, flickering shimmer of golden orbs. The morning horizon, or the distant stars? She slinks closer to the night, satin slippers gliding across the marble floor. "Why then?"
Silence.
She stops before him, gaze fixing once again upon the simple Earth Kingdom garments, the soft spikes of mahogany hair. The lines of his body, once all so straight, so ordered, now just rigid, tense. The lines of his face, subtly shifted, deepened. But she couldn't put her finger on the change. He looked older, wiser maybe. Lost. Damaged.
"Those girls are after you, too. You and your uncle…" There they were again. The cracks. Her teeth sink into her lip as the image of the old man's prone body surfaces in both their minds. "We're all here for the same reason then, I guess."
His head dips once in affirmation. The faint crease of his brow and the ironic twist at the corner of his lips confirms that his thoughts mesh with her own. Ba Sing Se is the safest place in the world from the Fire Nation.
"You're really not after Aang?"
"No," there's a hoarse rasp to the word before the silk returns to his tone, "I'm not."
Her eyes fix at a point on his shoulder. Is that a chip? "I want to believe you."
Long moments pass. She waits. "Uncle believes in second chances. That's why we're here."
"And you don't?"
Silence.
No, he wouldn't. He would have to believe in himself first. "Well, I do." She sighs and turns to leave. "I won't tell anyone. When you're ready, you can tell them yourself."
"Katara." Her hand freezes on the doorknob and she turns to stare, her eyes wide. The candlelight flickers in response to his deep intake of breath. The cracks pull a bit further apart as his chest expands, but they knit together a bit more tightly as his words are quietly exhaled. "Thank you."
She likes the way he's putting his pieces back together.