Prompt: History
She stands out in the quiet field. She is pacing back and forth, her hands pressed against her mouth as she tries to calm herself down.
But she can feel the rumble of the earth behind. She can see a golden light in the distance and she knows her village is no longer her home.
They took it like they take everything.
But she still waits. She blocks out the screams and the shouts. She blocks out the images in her head of less than two hours ago when her family was slaughtered by the Nazis. Everyone.
They all went exactly like her mother.
And now, all she can do is wait for what she has left. If he was careful like she told him to be, he should meet her very soon.
"God, please let him be here," she whispers. She sits down in the grass, pulling her legs up to her chest. She digs her face into her legs, blocking the entire world out except for the image of his ember eyes.
But she can still keep track of time and it feels like hours have passed. He stills hasn't come and when she looks up, her eyes are stained with the tears she shouldn't have ever shed. It is only after she lets out her broken sob that she hears something.
A rustle.
She snaps her head to the right. "Who's there?" she demands.
No answer.
She stands up, backing away slowly. "Who's there?" she shouts, her voice rising in her fear.
Then a person walks into her line of sight. "Katara?" he calls.
The voice makes all her muscles relax. She lets out a relieved laugh as she calls back, "Zuko!" She runs forward to see him more clearly, but she stops in her tracks. She stares at him in shock, "Your face."
"It was the fire," he lies, visibly fighting the pain.
She knows he's lying. "Why did they do this do you?" she demands.
He walks up to her. He reaches out his hand and brushes away the tear that had dried on her face, "It doesn't matter."
"It all matters!" she shouts, knocking away his hand, "Everything that has happened here; this…that happened to you—"
"It wasn't you," he cuts her off, "It was my choices that let to it."
"You didn't choose to fall in love with me," she retorts, her blue eyes glistening with tears.
"And you didn't either," he replies. His eyes, even as the left is swollen under the ripe burn, still shines as bright as the flames burning her village—and infinitely more beautiful and good.
She stares at him, completely dumbfounded at how he can still go on. Even after everything he's been through, he's still standing here before her, determined as ever. She runs forward and flings herself into his arms, pressing her lips deeply against his. Even under the pain of his scar, her weight is nothing. He wraps his arms around her waste and hugs her tightly against his body.
They pull their lips apart and she whispers, "I love you."
This time, it is his tears that fall. They burn his already searing burn, but he doesn't even flinch. He just presses his lips against hers once more, unwittingly pressing his tears into her face.
He is crying because he knows he will never see her again.
She is just about to ask why he is crying when he pulls away sharply. He listens into the forest and seconds later, she hears the same shouts he hears. They are the soldiers that are coming to kill the traitor and his dame.
Zuko looks back at Katara one more time. Then he traps her lips in the shortest, deepest, most passionate kiss they would every share in their life.
He pulls away again and reaches for the schwa-stika sewn to the side of his arm. He tears it off his uniform and hurls it into the field. He then reaches into his pockets and pulls out the pearl dagger his uncle had given him when he was very young. Katara looks down at the dagger and takes it before he even has to reach out to give it to her.
He leans down and whispers in her ear, "Get to America. New York City. I will find you. I swear it." Then he turns away from her, towards the forest.
She wants nothing more than to pull him with her.
But she knows better than anyone that they will both die if they both run. She wouldn't mind that.
But in death or in life, he would.
So she bolts away from him. She clutches the dagger to her chest and runs faster than she ever has in her life, all the while, his words echoing in her mind.
And even though he knows he will die, he doesn't believe it for a second. He doesn't believe it because even though he know he will die, he is certain that he will see Katara again.
He closes his eyes once, seeing her bright blue beautiful pupils in his mind.
Then he hears guns click and he reaches for his pocket to draw his own weapon.
