Chapter XII: Tender Moments

Katara

I'm finding Zuko increasingly annoying by the hour as we set up for the night. Contrary to his proposed "agenda", he just wants to laze around in camp. How I ever found the guy even remotely attractive, I don't know.

Even so, it's a pleasure to spend time with him in which I can remember previous months' events and I don't have ceaseless nightmares about his sister.

Zuko coughs, and I'm thrust out of my thoughts and back into the real world. I look up at him, and he coughs again.

"Are you okay?" I ask.

"Yeah." He responds shortly, as if not wanting to bring attention to himself.

"I think we'd better sleep now," I say. "We have a long day ahead of us."

"Right."

I spread out my sleeping bag, leaving a couple yards of space between him and me. He notices this.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Anything," I reply.

"Do you regret this happened?"

"…this?"

"All of it. The war."

"Of course."

"Even if it meant you wouldn't have met your friends?"

That catches me off guard. "I…I don't know."

Zuko

I wonder if she loves me. She certainly hasn't rejected me, but does she love me? What would've happened if Azula didn't barge in on us? Would I have kissed her?

…I can only imagine.

"I said, I care." Shock…a sudden urge to kiss her – I'm that grateful. Her face is so dark, smooth, exotic. Her eyes, brilliant blue, pouring her soul out for anyone to see…so trusting. So whole and complete – so unlike me. For a moment, she is the Yin, and I am the Yang.

Until it is broken by fire, burning hatred at my family's fingertips, at my fingertips.

Katara

Zuko wakes me up in the middle of the night, tossing and turning. I try to rouse him, but to no avail. Pressing my hand to his forehead, I am shocked by how feverish he feels. Quickly, I strip off his shirt – he's soaked in sweat.

I summon a length of water from my pouch and glove my hand, pressing it against his forehead. He gives a little groan, and my eyes fill with tears, because I can't sooth him in the least – only wait and watch for him to recover.

Zuko

When I wake, she is bent over the remains of the fire, prodding the dying coals as if she can nudge them back into life. Her back is to me, but I still have a clear view of the meager kiln she's built of sticks. She sits back and lets out a small growl of irritation. I lift one hand quickly and fire a spark past her, igniting the wood. Katara gives a little gasp and turns. I watch her from my position on the ground, silent.

"Thanks," she finally says.

"No problem." My voice sounds hoarse. "What happened?"

"You were sick." Now I notice her tired eyes and unbrushed hair.

"How long?" I ask as she adds wood to the fire with trembling hands.

"Two days."

"What?" I didn't – I didn't cost us that much travel time, did I? Did I?

Silently I curse myself. My sister could be on our paths right now; she could be waiting in the shadows, lurking, waiting for the right moment to leap out –

"Calm down, Zuko," she says. "We have plenty of time to move on."

I heave a sigh. Women. I do love her, but she has no clue what we're dealing with.

"Um…"

"Hm?" Oh. Clever answer on my part.

"You do realize you said that out loud, right?"

"Said what?"

"…and I quote, 'I do love her, but she has no clue what we're dealing with.'"

I feel a sudden warmth, unusual even for me, as my face flushes.

"It's okay," she says. "The feeling's mutual."