prompt two
accusation

entitled: Cinderella
summary: 002. Iroh gets a part in the school play and meets a rather snarky individual. "You play Prince Charming. Why am I not surprised?" —IrohKorra. AU.
rating: K+
disclaimer: I do not own.
notes: Highschool!AU. Woo.

Iroh was putting away the props, when he heard a faint, "Oh, crap," behind him.

He turned in time to see a girl, flowing dark hair and skin the color of mocha, fumbling to slip away unnoticed. Dropping all the play scripts—as one said script floated all the way to his feet—didn't help her much. He watched amused as her long, surprisingly nimble, limbs snatched at the papers dancing in the air.

Her back was turned to him and so he cleared his throat, though it was tempting to just sneak up on her.

The girl swirled franticly to face him and it was one of those stupid cliché moments where he's just staring—captivated.

Her features were pretty average except for her eyes, which were large and blue and expectant. Still, in the dimmed lights of the stage, where it was just him, and her, and white papers sailing everywhere in between, it was stupidly magical.

(Iroh tried not to cringe.)

The girl straightened, some papers falling from her escaping stack. "Uh, hey."

"Hey," Iroh replied before leaning down, helping her pick up the mess. "You know," he began, as they weaved about the place, the crinkle of papers echoing through the empty auditorium, "Most girls just drop a pen to get a guy's attention. Maybe a few books in the hallway if they have time during passing period. They usually don't go for a whole stack of paper," he said over his shoulder. "It doesn't always have the desired effect."

To his surprise, she snorted. "Uh, right," she muttered. It sounded kind of like the disdainful 'Oh, crap,' that had commenced her attempted getaway, but ultimately resulted in her fumble and papers flying everywhere.

"Do you have a problem with me?" The question was more genuine than Iroh had expected from himself. What did he care whether or not some girl had a problem with him?

He stared at her as she gathered the last of the papers from her side. "No problem. It's just that, you are what you are." She wasn't looking at him, more focused on, "Eff. I'm going to have to sort these out. Again."

Iroh was irritated—what she said lingered like a cleverly disguised insult—but he kept his face composed. "What do you mean by 'you are what you are?'"

She looked up, her blue eyes boring into him and he realized, that was all she needed. Those bright blue eyes that held a million things.

"Prince," she accused, startling him. "You're a prince."

He couldn't help but make a face. "That's gross."

She laughed a little then. "It's true. Why do you think you got the part of Prince Charming?" He was about to respond, but she cut him off. "It's because you exude it in every aspect of your life—the charm, the pretty face, and the god-awful kindness thing you do with every girl—"

"I'm being attacked because I'm nice?" He was a bit amused.

"—because you lead them on." Suddenly, her voice rose a pitch as she pretended to be some sort of school girl, "Oh! Iroh held the door for me. Our eyes met for like five seconds. We're going to get married next June." She grinned as Iroh laughed lightly. "You give them hope. It sucks."

A thought occurred to him then. "Have I ever unintentionally, through the terrible trait that is kindness, given you false hope."

The remnants of the grin left her pretty features.

Oh.

He had.

The girl cleared her throat and waved her hand dismissively in the air. "No way," she replied, laughing a bit too rigidly. "I hardly know you."

"You know my name."

She rolled her eyes. "Everyone knows your name."

He nodded thoughtfully. "Tell me yours," he said curtly.

To his surprise—again—she snorted. "Uh, why?"

He shrugged. "Well, you know mine. And how am I going to address you the next time I see you?"

Her eyes flickered momentarily, as her lips pulled into a wry smile. "What makes you think you're going to see me again?"

"Well I hope I do," he said with all the charm he could muster.

"Ugh. Fine," she looked at him sternly, "Just, don't do that." To which she could only mean his charm. "It gives me chills," she stated with a light smile. "My name's Korra."

Korra.

Where had he seen that name?

"Do you have a part in the play?" he asked. He was pretty sure he had seen that name somewhere on the cast list.

Korra nodded. "Yeah. It's a small part."

"Which part is it?" he inquired, finally moving towards her to hand her the rest of the papers.

Korra took the scripts with a thankful smile. After gathering them into a semi-decent pile, she hugged the scripts to her chest, papers jutting every which way, but at least they weren't going to slip away again.

"Is that important?" Korra pondered, an elegant eyebrow raised.

Iroh shrugged. "Just curious. If you're in the play, I'll find out eventually, right?"

The school district had brilliantly decided to do Disney fairytales this year. Their school drew the Cinderella ballot, which received a varied reception of rampant squeals and I'm-going-to-go-kill-myself-now proclamations. (It was better than drawing The Little Mermaid ballot, however, because how were they going to work out the whole 'fin and swimming' situation with all the budget cuts?)

Korra grinned then, slowly backing towards the exit. "Then I guess you'll just have to find out 'eventually.'"

...

When Korra stepped onto the stage in that hideous green dress, her voice shrill and wicked, reprimanding the poor Cinderella, Iroh knew.

He was in love.

fin.

endnotes: I don't say it enough but thanks for reading. (And the reviews are always lovely—thanks for that too.)