Soundtrack: Whatever Lola Wants – Janice Hagen


Atonement

It had been almost three weeks since he had first joined their group. She would not speak to him unless it was to make a spiteful comment, she did not look at him unless it was to glare, and she certainly would not sit near him or touch him if she could help it. He had might as well have been a vagrant infested with an infectious, incurable disease for the way she treated him. It bothered him more than he cared to admit. Somehow, he had to make things better between them. He had to make amends.

But Katara was the queen of grudges. If she didn't want to forgive him, she simply wouldn't listen. A stone wall would be more forthcoming than her, which made earning a place in her good books quite impossible. It was no surprise that he got frustrated. He had already thrown his dignity to the winds. He had grovelled and begged and let her say what she wanted to him, and now he was just tired of it all. The stupid girl was driving him crazy, and he wanted answers. He wanted to know why she wouldn't give him a chance to prove that he had changed.

So, after another torturous day of coldness and smug (sometimes hateful) looks from her, he decided to take matters into his own hands. He cornered her against the mural wall in the temple later that night, demanding to know what the hell her problem was. Everyone else had accepted him into the group, so why couldn't she? Why was it so difficult for her to see that he was on her side?

"Just what are you expecting from me?" he growled, standing close as he glared down at her. "I've tried to apologise for my past mistakes, but it seems like nothing I do is good enough for you. You don't even want to listen."

She held her chin high as she met his gaze, but for all her boldness her breathing sounded fragmented, almost shaky. He was too angry to notice the danger signs, too hurt to see the way her pupils dilated at his proximity, swallowing the blue in a pool of black, or how her gaze kept flickering to his lips. He wanted his answers, which was why he leaned in even closer so that their faces were inches apart.

"What is it you want?" he gritted out, staring intensely into her eyes. "Name it and I'll do it. I'll do whatever it takes to get it into your head that I've changed, but I—"

Her fingers clutched at his tunic, tugging his face down so that his lips crashed against hers. Zuko was so surprised that he stood there frozen. Her arms curled around his neck and the tip of her tongue slid along the seam of his lips. It was as if fire burst to life inside him. He could move again, but only to open his mouth to hers, giving her the entrance she so desired, allowing him to taste her with each velvety caress, each blood-tingling kiss. His hands found purchase on slender hips, pulling her closer and letting him feel every soft curve, every rapid beat of her heart. She pressed herself even harder against him in response, and they both sighed into the kiss as their bodies brushed against each other in all the right places.

She somehow managed to undo the ties of his tunic and then she was touching his bare chest, tracing the defined ridges and planes and making his skin burn with every touch. Little whispers of warning echoed in his mind like bells, but it was so hard to stay focussed. His mind was blurred by the pounding rhythm of his heart, by the fire coiling and spreading through his veins. He couldn't think; he could only act, guided by age-old instincts that had him gripping her thighs as he lifted her off the ground, pressing her back against the wall in a desperate need to feel more of that friction between them. That had him placing hot, open-mouthed kisses on the fluttery pulse of her neck, moving down and down. She arched into him with a half-choked moan, and he closed his eyes, biting down on his lip to hold back a groan of his own as their hips met with the motion.

More warning bells echoed in his mind, telling him that he was in way over his head and had no idea what he was doing. And it was true. But even though his mind was a tangled web of confused thoughts, his body still seemed to instinctively know what to do. What would make his blood spark with renewed fire and his breath come a little faster. What would make her gasp in pleasure and arch into him again and again, until it just didn't seem right that there should be so much cloth getting in the way of their skin touching. He wanted to feel her body slide against his like naked silk, to taste and explore every inch of her.

He wanted her.

And she wanted him.

oOo

They were both panting and slumped on the ground. His limbs felt like jelly and their skin slid against skin in sticky dampness as he shifted to hold himself up, looking down into her eyes. The fog was beginning to clear in his mind—in both their minds—and what he saw in her expression had his heart clenching in a steel trap of unease. She looked scared, almost horrified, as if she couldn't believe what she had just done.

"I ..." He moistened his lips.

Katara shoved him off her. She snatched up her clothes from the ground and gave him a wild-eyed look as she stood back to her full height, like an animal about to bolt. In that moment he could see her shame, her lust, her fear.

"Don't you dare tell anyone about this," she said in a shaky voice, trying to appear intimidating but only succeeding in looking vulnerable and small. "I'll know if you do, and I'll ... I'll ..." She compressed her lips together, trying to get a hold of herself. It was obvious she was close to tears.

Zuko reached out for her. "Katara—"

"Don't!" She flinched away from his hands. "Just don't—don't touch me."

He paused, not quite able to hide the flicker of hurt in his eyes. "Fine," he said flatly, "but before you start turning me into the monster who stole your virginity, just remember that you were the one who kissed me first."

She stared at him through overly bright eyes, but he turned the other way. He didn't want to give her the satisfaction of knowing that she had upset him. He felt used and dirty, like some plaything to be enjoyed while the moment lasted and then tossed aside when reality came knocking again. It was humiliating, wounding, and a part of him wanted to shout at this girl, to demand who the hell she thought she was that she could string him along like this, playing hot and cold with his emotions as if it were nothing.

"Just go away," he muttered when she remained silent. "You obviously want to pretend that nothing happened, so forget it. Leave. I won't tell a soul."

She didn't move.

Zuko repressed a sigh and turned back to look at her. "What? Why are you still here? What is it that you want from me?"

It was an echo of his earlier words—something they both recognised as her eyes flickered to his in a skittish glance—but this time there was no impulsive kiss, no inferno of fire. She stared at her feet, clutching her clothes to her chest to hide her naked body.

"I don't know," she said softly. "I don't know what I want."

He let out a small breath, surprised by her honesty, but she didn't wait for his response and made her escape, leaving him alone in the mural room. He placed his head in his hands with a sigh and closed his eyes, feeling as if all of the energy had been drained out of him. There was no comprehending what had happened. Everything had spiralled out of his control so quickly, and now he just felt so confused, so torn between feelings of regret and desire and shame.

"Stupid," he muttered. "So stupid."

He should have never kissed her back. He should have never allowed himself to be caught up in the moment, but it was too late to reconsider his actions now. The damage had already been done. He'd had sex with Katara. He had atoned for his mistakes with his body, letting her take from him the last of his innocence, even as he had snatched away her own. There was no saying what tomorrow would bring, whether she would still hate him or not, but he did know one thing. He would never forget this night.

He would never forget her.


Author note (23/6/2019): This is the revised version of 'Atonement'.