You know, I could probably write a freaking dissertation on the color blue in the context of Azutara. ._. Avatar would be a kickass major.

7. Azula Makes Her Case

The next morning, I got up early. Got up, not woke up, because woke up would mean I actually slept. I slid out of bed as the sun slid over the hills, the first rays of dawn peering through my curtains; in the dim light, I washed my face at my vanity, ran a comb through my hair. Then I slipped out into the hall, and came to the doors of her room, and cracked one open as quietly as I could.

Her mattress creaked under my weight, but that didn't wake her. My breath in her ear did. When she turned, I kissed her, until she took me by the shoulder and pulled away. "This is wrong."

"So?"

She blinked at me, eyes still glazed with sleep. I kissed her again, and once more, and then I pushed her over onto her back; I straddled her hips and leaned over her, grinning. Couldn't keep the smile off my face. "No," she tried again between kisses, breathless. "I mean it. This is really—really wrong."

"I still don't see your point."

She kissed me back. She could protest all she liked, but she kissed me back, beautiful dizzying truth that it was. Like a reflex, her mouth answered mine. I could feel her heart beat faster, her breath thicken in her throat—when I touched her, I felt gooseflesh bloom in my wake. I raised my head and wet my lips and came back to her with hunger renewed, for the taste of tidepools and wildflowers; I nipped at her lip, opened her mouth, slid inside. I'd never kissed much before, but it came easy with her, like carving out a home. Like stealing the sweetness from her tongue.

There was an urgency to it, a searing savage need. A desperate drive to get as much of her, as near to her as I could. I kissed her and kissed her and soon we were entwined, a knot of limbs and dressing gowns—and it was good that way, it was good. I felt everything. When her back arched, when her breath hitched, when flutters spread through her chest pressed against mine. When she could have but didn't let go. And I felt rather than heard her sigh when the swell passed, when that something inside me finally calmed and I drew back. Placing a last, light, deliberate kiss at the edge of her mouth, I pulled in a breath and let my head fall against her, into the cinnamon crook of her neck.

"Azula." She breathed my name with a thousand meanings, a thousand thoughts in conflict. It was gentle, and also bitter, and also sad. Almost impossibly fond. I loved the sound of my name most when she said it, after I'd kissed her awhile. "I have a boyfriend."

"And?"

"And I love him. He loves me. I can't just—betray him like this."

"You already have." She stiffened a little and I smiled, taking one of her hands in mine. Lifting it to my mouth, I spread her fingers and kissed between the first two, tasting milk soap on her skin. "Listen," I murmured, "this is harmless. We're just having fun. There's nothing wrong with that."

"I have a feeling Aang would see it differently."

I moved to the junction of her ring and middle finger, planting a kiss there next. "He doesn't have to know."

"I'm not a liar, Azula."

"You mean you weren't before." I kissed – where else? – the last notch between her fingers, completing the chain. "Nothing has to change. You can still love him, and he can still love you, and you can grow up and get married and have a whole swarm of adorable baby cloudbenders, or whatever you get mixing water and air. The only difference is, for once in your life, you get to stop thinking about what's right, and do something just because it feels good." A grin edged my lips against her palm. "Haven't you ever wanted to be the bad girl? Just once?"

I lifted my head, met her eyes. Blue as ever. Blue as the ocean, blue as the sky; blue as the fire smoldering under my skin. "This is wrong," she said once more, at last. Her voice a strengthless whisper.

"Yeah." I kissed her again, on the lips this time. "But in case you've forgotten, I'm not exactly the princess of doing what's right."

She let out a sigh. But after that she was quiet, and for long time I just lay on top of her, feeling her breathe; I laced my fingers through hers, laid my head in her hair strewn over the pillow. Soaked up the scent of her skin. Together, in a sliver of the dawn, we were exquisitely still.

I couldn't remember when I'd last been so content. The last time everything had felt so right. Even when she pushed me off, and sat up – when the morning began in earnest, much as I wished it never would – the kernel of warmth inside me didn't fade. Beside me, Katara pushed her arms up and stretched, fisted one hand to rub her eyes. She slid out of bed and ambled towards the vanity, the restless night still clinging to her like a cloak, her hands sifting languidly through the drawers. In her basin, full of rosewater and mint, she wet a soft cloth; I watched as she wrung it out and scrubbed the sleep from her face. As she swapped the cloth for a comb, picked the loose strands from its teeth, and began to pull it through her hair.

She didn't resist, when I plucked the comb from her hand. Her face in the mirror said she'd expected it. And her hair was sleek, still, falling through the comb's teeth like water through open hands; its waves would come back in a few days, and they'd be pretty in their own way, but for now the straightened strands mesmerized me. Never caught on the comb, made me jerk or tug like she had that day in the washroom. Just spilled through its teeth in long, liquid columns, shining in what faint light breached the curtains.

I couldn't help it. For awhile I combed her hair, but we were too close, it was too easy—I set down the comb and leaned in and kissed her neck, that silky snip of skin I glimpsed with each stroke of the comb. I pressed myself up against her, slid my arms around her, felt her shiver and sigh. Again I tasted milk soap, and lilac lotion; again I felt the thrill wash through her, skin tingling on my tongue. "Quit it," she said in a mumble when I nipped her, her reflection reddening by degrees. I didn't exactly obey. "Azula—I mean it! You're going to leave a bruise."

"Mm." I smiled into her skin. If I could have, I'd have swallowed her up like brown sugar candy. If I could have, I'd never have let her leave my arms. "So everyone will know you're mine."