ZW 2020: Celestial
"You're one of the Fallen, aren't you?" Katara said in a hushed voice.
Zuko stiffened. He sat near the gargoyles on the roof of the half-crumbled cathedral, his hunched, twisted back letting him blend in with the monstrous creatures that had been carved there to frighten and guard. He pulled his jacket tighter around him—around the scarred stumps that was all that was left of his wings—and stood up.
"Wait!" She reached for him, her foot skidding on the rain-slick tiles.
His gaze snapped to her, and his stomach lurched. When he saw she wouldn't fall, he relaxed and shoved his hands in his pockets. "You shouldn't be here, Katara."
"But you are, right?" she said. "One of the Fallen."
"Angels and Fallen don't exist."
He turned away. A clear dismissal.
"Don't." Her voice trembled, but it sounded more from frustration than anything else. She had always been passionate. "Don't shut me out."
He paused, closing his eyes. Hoping it would close out the memories as well. His wings shredded and torn. His father banishing him from the Celestial Realm. Falling, falling to this spit of a hell.
Then loneliness. Endless years of loneliness.
He was so tired of it.
She risked another step closer. "Zuko. Please."
"What if I am?" he finally whispered. "What then?"
She took another step and her fingertips brushed his arm, slipping up to his shoulder. He couldn't help his small shudder. How long had it been since he'd felt another's touch?
"Then I would be glad you're being honest with me," she said, soft yet tugging at his soul as surely as if her voice were piercing steel. "And I … I would be honest with you, too."
His brow furrowed.
She bit her lip, suddenly hesitant. "You see, I'm …"
"What?"
Light glowed in her eyes, radiant as the stars and turning her sea-blue irises to silver.
He stumbled back, one hand going for the knife attached to his belt. "You're one of them."
"No, wait!" She held her hands up in an appeasing gesture.
"You're an angel!"
He said it like an accusation, like she was a thief who had stolen something precious from him, and in a way she had. The human woman whose visits he had secretly come to anticipate was gone. Now he didn't know what to think of her. He didn't know if he really knew her at all.
"Oh, this isn't going how I planned at all," she muttered.
He glared at her. "You think?"
"Don't give me that look," she snapped. "I wasn't the only one who pretended to be human."
His jaw tightened, but he didn't leave as he probably should have. "Is your name even Katara?"
"Yes, it is." She folded her arms and arched one eyebrow. "Is your name even Zuko?"
A short nod.
They stared at each other, even as rain started to fall again in a soft patter.
She unfolded her arms and sighed. "Can we not do this? Please?"
His eyes widened.
"I just … I didn't want to keep pretending with you," she admitted, lowering her gaze and gripping her arm. "I … I like you."
His breath got lost somewhere in his throat. "W-what?"
"I like you." Her eyes met his, earnest and blue once more. "A lot."
His heart pounded faster and faster. "I—but …"
She closed the distance between them and clasped his hand. "Is it really so awful that I'm an angel?"
He closed his mouth. What could he say to that? He had been an angel too once, before his Fall. But since being trapped on earth, flightless without his wings, he had learnt the ugly side of angels. He had learnt how cruel they could be. How quick to stomp on someone already beaten. How quick to hunt and kill so long as they could get away with it.
She reached up and touched his cheek, holding his gaze. "Please. Can't we at least try?"
He let out a breath and placed his hand over hers. "Okay."