ch: soothe.
characters: katara, zuko.
tumblr prompt: zutara week.
…
Katara wraps her arms around Zuko's waist, buries her nose into his chest when he hugs her goodbye, and it shocks him, because Zuko has never really suspected that Katara liked him much. (Funny how he nearly dies with this thought.) But she clings to him, her fingers clenching the smooth material of his clothes, and he's frightened to pry her away.
So he tilts his head down, ignores the way that Sokka stares at them from his spot between Toph and Suki, (and there's irony there but no one ever speaks about it), and he whispers into the strands of chestnut hair dislodged by his embrace. "Are you okay?"
His tunic sticks to his chest with tears.
"Katara," he reaches a hand up to smooth her hair, crazy and ruffled by the breeze, pulls his fingers though it until it catches in tangles, "what's wrong?"
There's nothing to say, so she doesn't speak. She presses her nose further into his chest until it bends against him, sniffles quietly but refuses to slip her hands between their bodies and wipe her tears. "It's still warm here," she says, her voice congested with silent cries, "it felt like some of that lightning got stuck there. It never really goes away, does it?"
Katara tilts her head up to look at him, wet streaks down her face, eyes still glittering at him. "I—" She hesitates, looks to the side. (The side where Iroh sits, his eyes turned into a teacup, but he knows, he knows; Aang is conveniently packing their things onto Appa—her things.)
"This feeling never really goes away," she mumbles and her fingers tug his body closer to hers, and Zuko can't shake the way that she clings to him, like he's the only thing that can keep her here.
Maybe she wants to be here. (And here is not here, it is here, with his lightning, with him.)
Zuko pulls his arms from around her waist, wedges them between their bodies. He wipes her tears with warm palms, gently and careful as he can manage them, and smiles at her. (He's not sure what that is, whether it's a smile or a platitude of thanks, but he accepts, he always will.)
"Aang," he says, and his voice carries strongly across the group of friends. The Avatar stands from the saddle, looking down. "I'll need Katara's things."
…
notes: i'll take your canon and beat it to death with my alternate reality.