M: Memories
Zuko's grey hair waved with the light breeze that passed through the balcony, misleading several almond blossoms away from their branches. The sun was about to set, its fading rays painting the sky in the colors of coral and roseate. The former Fire Lord, away from the palace now due to his constant travels, closed his eyes, letting the smell of freesia fill him with the emotional completion he had so much longed for.
"I haven't been this peaceful for a while," he murmured to himself, his whisper lost in the breath of the air. "Not since she…"
Died. The phrase completed itself in his mind—he was too afraid of speaking the word, as if hearing his voice say it would make it more real. The eighty-year old man suppressed a sob, burying it deep into his stomach. She was gone, forever, and it couldn't get realer than that.
Slowly and hesitantly, terrified that the pain that would come as a consequence would be so much for him to bear, he let his mind wander back to the happier times. Back to his memories. With a light smile on his thin lips, he recalled warm, spring mornings with freshly-brewed tea. Mornings they spent cuddling and talking and kissing and dreaming of the future. He recalled the touches, ever so soft and meaningful, with the feelings boiling under their skins like hot water. He recalled her eyes, copper-colored, sharp and soft at the same time, staring at him with uncontained affection. Her hair, as if made of silk, had felt perfect between his fingers. They had smelt perfect too and, if he shut his eyes tightly now and focused, he could almost sense the jasmine aroma filling his nostrils.
They had had some beautiful moments together—grew up together, had children together, grew old together. If only we had died together; things would have been so much easier.
Eagerly, he reached inside his pocket with a weak motion, pulling out an old blade—a simple memento of her passion for knives. It twinkled, as if meeting his gaze made it excited, before going back to its usual cold apathy. Till the end, the engraving read. When he had made it for her, he hadn't imagined that end would have come so quickly.
Letting the tears trickle down his wrinkled cheeks, he got lost in the anamnesis, realizing just how much he needed to do that. Yes, he had loved Mai; still loved Mai. And she had loved him back with the outmost fervency. But that love could only survive through the memories.
So, Zuko remembered, holding onto the hope that he, too, someday would join her in eternity—where there would be nothing to keep them apart.
Almost cried while writing this, but part of me has to accept that Mai is dead during the legend of Korra, leaving Zuko behind.
Thanks to NinjaKick for editing.
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~Dora.
