AN: Wow, I take it back. NOW it's been a while. I think a year to be exact. I could be wrong… Personally I don't even remember the last time I updated. I suppose I've been rather busy. One can't blame me for trying to graduate, correct? Oh well, the night is young and I have not to do, so I might as well continue this odd little adventure for the eager eyes of my remaining faithful followers… If there are any remaining, the question stands boldly… I highly appreciate those of you who still read my little experiment, and those of you who are virgins to my work, I wish you well. Anyway, there is no real point to this chapter, just sort of a warm up to help me back into the writing gist. Hopefully, another chapter sooner than the last.

Chapter 9: 'A Perfect Skin…'

Zuko stared at the ceiling, eyes bloodshot, a million diverse scenarios running through his mind at intense speed. His fists were clutching at the cotton bed sheets, and he could feel his heart pounding in his head, neck and chest. His breathing was uneven and heavy, and he often had to gasp for short bursts of air. Sweat dripped off in small glistening beads from his forehead, dampening the pillow beneath his head. He inhaled a deep breath of air, and exhaled slowly, in attempt to calm his nerve wrecked body.

He glanced at the exotic young woman next to him, as to make sure that his personal panic attack would not stir her from her peaceful rest. Her chest moved up and down in slow and sensual symmetrical rhythm, offering the hint that she was still in deep slumber. Zuko sighed a breath relief; he didn't wish for her to see him like this; a panic ridden mess.

Zuko shut his eyes and breathed deeply for several moments in calming meditation. He attempted to slow his mind and process his thoughts, and perhaps relax his body. He sorted through the thoughts one by one, paying more or less attention to each individual one. Each a different worry, each a different scenario of the Avatar seeing the bare truth for the first time… Each a very real, very dangerous possibility.

Zuko knew that Aang would not be pleased when he saw Katara and himself together. In fact, he knew that would be an understatement. The Avatar would most likely be blindingly infuriated and enraged at the sight. The most powerful and influential being on earth enraged at him because he had stolen the "love of his life". This was NOT Zuko's idea of a good start to the peace offering.

He allowed his mind to wander into the world of solutions. An apology maybe, perhaps that would calm the volatile boys' dangerous emotional outrage once he saw the truth. Zuko switched the situation and put himself in the Avatars' shoes… An apology was definitely not going to help, at least not in Zuko's eyes. With his usual agenda, the apology could even be seen as adding insult to injury… a sarcastic remark.

Zuko came to realize that this situation wasn't exactly fair on either side. It was not fair to Aang for the simple fact that she was kidnapped and then all of the sudden when she finally returns, she is in love and all over with her kidnapper and supposed enemy. Stockholm syndrome? Or some dirty trick? The truth would be rather difficult, if at all possible, for him to accept for him.

It was not fair to Zuko because he could not, for lack of better words, choose who he fell in love with. Who knew it would be the enemy, the very person he spent most of his teenage years pursuing? It's not like he could control his raging instincts and hormones, which were indeed telling him that he wanted Katara with a burning and fiery passion.

Katara… He wondered how she was fairing. After all, it was her best friend and protector that she must face. Not to mention her overly protective brother. She was not lying there in a pathetic and sweating emotional wreck, in fact, she looked quite peaceful, and in his opinion she had the duped end of the stick here.

'I wonder how she remains so calm and graceful at a time like this. So relaxed and peaceful…Yet just as beautiful and serene… Just look at me, I am a wreck…' Zuko peeked a look over toward Katara's sleeping figure. He eyed her up and down; his heart beat matching her exact breathing movements in one peaceful and rhythmic song.

He felt his lips curl up in a slight smile as his eyes scanned her. He couldn't explain it; he just felt a great ball of emotion well in his stomach. Pride, insecurity, happiness… Love, All in one great big heap in the pit of his lower chest. He felt a need to laugh; dance, scream and hide all at once like a great big burst of energy. He bit his lip to contain the outburst, after all, it was late and she would not be pleased if he awoke her. How would he explain that exactly?

He slowly forced himself back into reality and the surrounding elements. He raised his hand carefully and quietly and wiped his forehead and managed to control his breathing. He slowly lifted out of the bed and quietly maneuvered to the bathroom, silently clicking the door behind him. He walked over to the mirror and stared himself in the eye.

The blood-colored scar covering his right eye stuck out like the sun on a clear day. He moved his hand up to caress the rough, burnt scar tissue. The feel was so familiar, the familiar hatred he felt toward it everyday, the feel of the raw, dead skin. The feel of his very face… He had grown accustomed to these feelings, but they never quite seemed to disappear, they never got older…

He accepted the fact that there was little that he could do about the non-appealingly visible scar. It would most likely remain a part of him forever, and even if by some miracle of the spirits he found a way to make it vanish, it would always be a part of him, a part of his history… The mark of the banished prince. It would scar him forever, visible or not.

Zuko sighed, and shook the thoughts out of his mind. He turned the bamboo faucet and stuck his cupped palms under the nozzle to catch the crystal liquid in his awaiting hands. He stared at his reflection in the glistening stream, hoping in vain to see something other than a scarred face and a checkered history, but nothing stared him back but the cold hard and ugly face of truth and reality. Zuko blinked repeatedly obviously frustrated. He splashed the cold water on his face, and let the tingle penetrate his pores.

He reached around blindly for a towel and blotted his face dry, soon after discarding the towel carelessly onto the floor. He sighed heavily after one last glance in the mirror directly in front of him. He turned away after a loss of interest and a sudden wave of sleepiness finally came over him.

'At least I'm calmer… Hopefully I can rest now. I'm going to need it…Who knows what the day holds for us tomorrow…' Zuko thought as he wandered wearily back to the bed where his sleeping lover lie. He carefully pulled back the cotton bed cover and crawled between the sheets gently so as to not wake Katara. He turned to face her and get a hold of a memory of her glistening tanned skin before he fell asleep. He ran his eyes over her one last time before drifting off, taking in every glance of her perfect skin, his eyes filled with lust and jealousy.

He was surprised when a pair of gleaming ocean blue eyes caught his fiery amber ones. She was awake.

"Can't sleep?" she whispered wearily.

"Not with you lying my side." He smirked slightly. A hurt look appeared on Katara's face. "It's a complement, love." He laughed slightly. She appeared relieved and smiled sweetly.

"Get some rest, who knows what'll happen tomorrow…" She leaned in and kissed him tenderly before laying her head down once more and closing her ocean colored eyes.

"I was just thinking the same thing…" He smirked slightly before falling into a decent sleep for the first time in several days.