Be my friend, hold me.

Wrap me up, enfold me.

I am small, and needy.

Wrap me up and breathe me.

- "Breathe Me" by Sia


Zuko


"Yeah. Sure. A hike." I hope I sound more confident than I feel. I look down at my sneakers. "Um, I don't have hiking boots or anything."

"Of course you don't. City boy." Katara snorts, but she's smirking and I can tell that she's just teasing. "Okay, I'll take you on a beginner's trail. No boots needed."

I have to admit I'm a little relieved. I'm in good shape, but that doesn't mean I wouldn't find a way to embarrass myself.

Katara gives me a sheepish look. Her cheeks are stained pink. "So...I drove here. We can take my car, if you want."

I quirk my brow at her. I've been driving or walking her home for a week, and she's had a car this whole time? I'm a little surprised. And maybe if I didn't like her so much, I'd be miffed too. But I can't get upset at her, especially not when she's looking up at me with her wide blue eyes and chastened smile.

"I didn't know you had a car," I drawl. I have to tease her about it, just a little bit. I'm sure there's a reason that she hasn't mentioned it.

"I don't drive it very much." She releases a breath. "And I didn't mean to mooch rides off of you."

I give her a crooked smile. "I didn't mind." And that's the truth.

We go out into the main room. Uncle has made himself suspiciously scarce, so I lock up behind me. Out in front of the tea shop is a black Volkswagen Jetta that has seen better days. The paint is worn and peeling, and there's a dent in the back bumper and a crack along the windshield.

"It was my brother's before it was mine," Katara explains as she heads over to the driver's door and unlocks it. "The summer before he started college, he worked at the grocery store to save up enough to buy a new car. A 2003 Mustang GT." I see her roll her eyes over the roof of the car. "He wanted something cool for college."

I snort out a laugh as she unlocks my door with the button on the driver's side. Then I open the door and fold myself into the seat.

Katara watches me with amusement. My knees are practically in the dashboard.

"You can move the seat back," she tells me with a grin. "Toph is the one who usually sits upfront, and she's barely five feet tall."

I reach for the lever under the seat and slide back until I have room to breathe before I reach for my seatbelt.

"Yeah, I think I'm a little taller than that."

Katara chuckles as she snaps her seatbelt into place and starts the car. She shifts gears and lets off the clutch, and we roll forward. She reaches over and turns on the radio. A pop song comes on and she thumbs the dial until the music is little more than background noise.

"I hate driving without the radio on," she murmurs.

"It's fine," I say, and she gives me a grateful look. After a few minutes of silence, I speak. "So, where is this beginner's trail of yours?"

"It's in Nehalem State Park. About twenty minutes from here." Her eyes flicker over to me. "There's a lot of hiking trails there. I've been on most of them. But this one is one of my favorites."

"Why?"

Her eyes are back on the road, but I can see her smile. "It has this really pretty waterfall at the end that goes right out into the ocean."

"I can't wait to see it."

She looks over at me, and I can't believe how happy she looks. I smile at her, and she simply beams. That look does funny things to my heart.

We don't say much as she drives. There's a certain air of melancholy around her. It shrouds her like a fog. I want to reach out and touch her, maybe take her hand and tell her that I understand. But I don't. Instead we ride in silence with nothing but the radio to break it.

She pulls off the highway and into an empty gravel lot surrounded by a thick forest. I can see the trailhead clearly marked. Katara parks the car and kills the engine, and when she looks over at me, I suddenly remember that I'm sitting on her right side and my scar is prominently on display. But she doesn't stare at it. She looks at me unflinchingly, and except for the stiffness of the scar tissue and the permanent squint through which I see the world, I can almost forget it exists.

"It's about an hour long hike," Katara tells me. The corner of her lips quirk up. "Do you think you can manage that?"

She's still joking, and I imagine that she's trying to cheer herself up.

I smirk back at her. "If I can't, will you carry me back?"

Katara laughs and the sound fills the car and seeps into my skin. "I'll drag you out by your ankles."

"Fair enough."

We step out of the car. The gray clouds hang low and threaten more rain, but according to the forecast it isn't supposed to rain until later on tonight. I hope it doesn't rain. I don't want this to be cut short.

Katara leads the way down the trail. It's clearly marked and the path is clear, so it's easy-going. Katara obviously knows it well. I follow her, craning my neck to look up at the evergreens above us. We walk for fifteen minutes before she speaks.

"My mom died a year ago today."

Her voice is so soft that the surrounding forest swallows it up. I'm so shocked that I nearly stop walking, and only manage to trip over my own two feet and barely stay upright. She glances back over at me, and I can see the hurt in her eyes. She looks like a wounded animal.

"I'm sorry." I swallow hard. "That's rough."

My words are stupid and inadequate and I curse my ineptitude. But I don't want to jump in with my own tale of sorrow. I want Katara to get this off of her chest first.

But Katara just nods slowly. "It was a car crash. I was with her."

I feel cold. It's like she's telling a story from my own life.

"I'm sorry," I say again. "It's...not easy."

She glances back at me again, and I can see the questions in her eyes. I didn't mean to bring it up, but now I have and I feel like I should tell her. I swallow hard.

"My mom died in a car crash too," I say in a low voice. "Five years ago."

I see the shock register across her face, and this time Katara stops walking.

"I'm sorry," she says. "I guess we both know what that's like, then."

I nod slowly.

She releases a breath. I can see the tears shining in her eyes. "It's just not fair, is it? To have them taken from us so suddenly. So abruptly." Katara shakes her head. "After she died, our cat, Momo, would sit in the window by the door just waiting for her to come home. He did that for weeks, until he finally realized she wasn't coming back."

"It isn't fair," I murmur in agreement. "And it sucks. Losing a parent…it's got to be one of the hardest things a person has to go through."

Katara nods her head. "Yeah, it is." She looks up at me. I can see the tremble in her lips. She's trying not to cry. "Does it ever get easier?"

I look away. "Sort of. But not really."

But I'm not a very good judge of that. Katara has all of these people that look out for her. I just have Uncle. I don't think I'm the best person to ask that sort of question. But I try to give her an answer.

"It's like...with time, it just gets easier to live with it. The loss. You still miss them, but it's not as...painful? It still hurts, but it's not so there, in your face, anymore."

Katara nods her head slowly as she absorbs my words. "It comes and goes in waves," she says softly.

I breathe out a sigh of relief that she understands what I'm struggling to say. "Exactly. It's just like that."

She starts walking, slower this time. Her hands are in the pockets of her windbreaker. I follow her. The breeze picks up, and under the brine I can smell vanilla and cherry blossoms.

"Did you go visit her grave?" I ask gently.

"Yeah. That's why I couldn't...that's why I didn't come paint today. I went to her grave, and to the accident site." She sniffles. "I haven't been back there since it happened. But I felt like I needed to. A headstone isn't her. But that place...where she died. I felt close to her there."

I nod in understanding. It took me years to drive back through the intersection where my mom died. But for me, I always feel closest to my mother standing on the shores of Puget Sound. Or when I'm running.

Katara goes on. "But when I was done, I didn't know what else to do. I know I should probably be at home with my dad, but sometimes being in that house...spirits, she's everywhere there. I needed to get away."

I reach out for her, but I drop my hand back to my side. "I know how that feels."

And I do. Even though my dad had scrubbed all traces of her from our apartment in a matter of weeks, my mother's ghost still walked the halls. It still does.

"Sometimes you just want to forget, you know?" I shrug. "At least I do."

"Me too," Katara says. "Just for a little while."

We keep walking.

"Thank you, for texting me." Katara's eyes flicker to me. "When I saw your text, I just wanted to…" She trails off, and her mouth twists like she's struggling to find the words. "I wanted to see you," she says at last.

My heart skips a beat in my chest and suddenly my legs feel like jelly. It doesn't mean anything, I tell myself. It doesn't mean what you think it means. She has a boyfriend.

"This last week has been so nice," Katara goes on, apparently oblivious to my thoughts. "Everyone in this town knows what happened. And they all treat me like I'm this fragile thing that's going to break if they say or do the wrong thing. But being with you...it wasn't like that. I felt like me again."

"I'm glad I helped you feel that way," I murmur. My tongue feels thick in my mouth and I swallow hard. "Me too. I felt that way too."

She looks up at me again. Curiosity is burning in her eyes. I want to sate it.

"I told you about how my uncle is more like a dad to me than my own dad," I find myself saying. Anxiety courses through my veins. "That's why I'm here. My dad. We...got into a pretty bad fight. So I left." I exhale. It's not the whole truth, but it's the most I've told someone who isn't involved in the situation. Who doesn't know what my father is like. "My whole life has gone to hell in the last few months, and I've just been so angry about all of it. But being around you...it's helped."

Katara smiles. There are still questions in her eyes, but she doesn't pry and I'm grateful for it. I don't know how much more I can stand to say.

"Then I'm glad I met you. I'm glad you saw me out in the rain and decided to give me a ride home."

"I'm glad I bumped into you, literally." I crack a grin, and she giggles. "You're the best thing in this whole town."

The words slip out before I even know I'm going to say them, and I hear her breath catch in her throat as my own lungs stop functioning. Her step falters, but she recovers gracefully. I barely hear the words that come out of her.

"No, you are."


Katara


And just like that, everything shifts between Zuko and I.

I can feel it, as subtle as a breeze caressing my cheeks. At the same time, it's as prominent as an earthquake.

The space between us has grown smaller. We're building a bridge between this trauma we share, and soon we will meet in the middle. I don't know what will happen when we get there, but all I know is that I am both excited and terrified.

I can't say for sure what compelled me to share my pain with him. It must have been something in his eyes. When you have been touched by grief, you can see it in other people. Sad people know another sad person when they see one.

And Zuko is sad, beneath his awkwardness and aloofness. He's angry too, but most of all, he's hurting. I'm hurting, too.

I want to hold him in my arms and ask what happened. Who hurt him. And maybe someday soon, I'll be able to. We're closing the gap. We're rushing headlong toward each other, toward something new and frightening and exhilarating all at once. I've never felt this way before.

His words echo in my brain. You're the best thing in this town. It's a compliment, probably the best one I've ever received. It fills my heart with warmth. And I know he meant it. I saw it in the way color rose in his cheeks and his eyes widened after he spoke the words. He hadn't meant to say it out loud, but he did.

I'm glad he did. And I meant my words too.

"I was there too."

His voice is quiet and forlorn. It's muffled by the forest around us. These trees will hold our secrets.

I look up at him. His eyes are trained on the ground in front of him. He's positioned himself on my right, so that I can't see his scar, but I can see the furrow in his brow and the hard set of his jaw.

"It was the three of us," he says just as quietly. "Me, my mom...and my dad." I see the knot in his throat rise and fall as he swallows. "It's his fault she's dead."

The words are jarring, but Zuko doesn't say any more. I want to know the story, but I can't bring myself to ask. It's rude. He'll share it if he wants to. Just like he didn't pry about my unavailability today, I won't pry into his trauma.

I take a steadying breath. "I'm sorry, Zuko."

Before I lose my nerve, I reach out and capture his hand. His skin is warm and I can feel the quiet strength in the palm of his hand. I only mean to give him a reassuring squeeze, but once I have him, I don't want to let him go.

His eyes dart down to our hands and then up to my face. I can see the storm in his eyes. But he doesn't let me go either. He looks back at the trail in front of us.

"He ran a red light going way too fast," he tells me, his voice a subdued murmur. "She...it was over quickly for her. Instant."

I think of a candle snuffed out. The fire dies immediately, but the smell of sulfur lingers in the air. The death of a loved one is a lot like that. They're gone so fast...but traces of them remain.

"That's how I got this." He gestures his free hand at his scar. "The doctors did what they could, but faces are hard to heal from burns. Even with grafts. I'm lucky I walked away with my eyesight." He lets out a derisive, bitter sound.

"That's awful." I squeeze his hand. I feel him squeeze mine back.

"You have no idea." There's no malice in his tone, just sadness. "All anyone sees when they look at me is this scar. I hate it."

"I don't," I say quietly.

He looks down at me. A smile ghosts over his lips. "I know you don't."


Zuko


We reach the end of the trail. I hear the thundering cacophony of a waterfall long before we see it, but when we break through the trees, I'm captivated by the sight.

The sheer cliff face rises steeply on one side of the clearing, jutting out diagonally and rising a hundred feet above where Katara and I stand. The waterfall pours down the cliffside and into the sea below.

"Oh wow," I manage to say.

Katara smirks up at me. "I told you it was gorgeous, city boy." She's still holding my hand.

"You were so right." I pull her along with me as I drift to the rails that line the perimeter of the drop-off, my eyes never leaving the waterfall. "This is incredible."

She lets go of me to rest against the railing. My hand feels empty without hers in it, but I lean against the rail beside her, our shoulders touching.

For a few minutes we stand there, watching the cascading water. Down below, it meets the sea in a churning maelstrom of foam at the base of the cliff. Mist from the waterfall floats onto our skin and dampens our clothes. The wind is strong here, buffeting my hair and chilling my cheeks. When I look down at Katara, her hair is billowing around her and she looks utterly beautiful.

"Thank you for bringing me here," I say. "This is definitely better than painting the shop."

She smiles up at me. "Agreed." I'm pleasantly surprised when she rests her head on my shoulder. "Thanks for coming with me. And...for being here."

"Same to you," I murmur.

"It's hard to talk about that stuff with my mom," Katara says sadly. "With other people, they don't really want to hear it, you know? It makes people uncomfortable."

I nod my head. "Yeah, it does. Death makes people weird. They just want to express their condolences and move on."

"Exactly. But it's good to talk about it, right? It's healthy."

"I guess so."

I frown. I've never really thought about it. I don't really talk to anyone about my mom. I've never felt comfortable enough to talk to my father about her. Azula keeps her emotions bottled up inside. I've never even seen her shed a tear for our mother. Mai thought the best way to talk about it was to not talk about it by climbing into bed with me. All Ty Lee could talk about it was auras. And Uncle? I could talk to him. I have talked to him. But somehow, it never felt as right as it does to talk about it with Katara. Maybe that's because none of them know this pain quite like Katara does.

"I don't wish this pain on anyone, and please don't take this the wrong way, but I'm glad I can share this with you."

I look at her, but Katara is staring out at the sea. "Me too."

She pulls away to look at me now. Her eyes are oceans: deep and unfathomable. I turn towards her, resting one elbow on the salt-crusted rail. Electricity sizzles in the air between us. It crackles across my skin and settles in the pit of my stomach. Her lips are slightly parted, full and pink, and I can just imagine how soft they are. Her eyes are searching my face like she's studying a map, but I don't know what she's looking for.

Apparently, she's found it because suddenly her hand is reaching for my face. For my scar. I force myself to hold still.

"Can I?" Her voice is a whisper.

I swallow hard. No one ever touches my scar. Not even Mai. It's like an unspoken rule. But I've exposed some of the scars inside of me to Katara. I might as well expose this one, this obvious mark of what I have been through, to her too.

I nod slowly.

She closes the distance and suddenly her hand is on my face. Her fingers delicately trace the border between scarred flesh and pale skin. The touch sends warm shivers through me. Her eyes follow her fingers, but mine are on her face. Her brow is slightly furrowed, and I can see the pain in her eyes. It's empathy. She feels bad about what happened to me, even though it has nothing to do with her at all.

Slowly, carefully, her fingers move across my scar. The tissue is mostly dead, and I barely feel her caress. But I feel it enough to know that her touch has my heart thundering in my chest and my breath catching in my throat.

Katara's fingers drift toward my damaged ear and disappear into my hair, feeling where the scar tissue is hidden beneath it. She presses the palm of her hand against my cheek and instinctively, I lean into her touch and close my eyes for a brief moment.

When I open my eyes, she's watching me.

She lets her hand fall away. It grazes my jaw, my neck, raising gooseflesh on my skin before she pulls it away. I can still feel the ghost of her touch on my skin. My nerves are livewires.

"I'm sorry, Zuko," she says. "With my mom...it wasn't anyone's fault. We hit a deer. It happens all the time out here. People will say, hey man, I just hit a deer out on the 101! It was crazy. Heck, my dad hit a bear once. It just becomes almost a joke, you know? Because when nothing bad happens, it's almost funny. Until something bad does happen. Then it's not funny anymore."

"It's just something you never expect to happen to you," I murmur. "You hear about death all the time. Car accidents, robberies gone wrong, stuff like that. But you never think anything like that will happen to you." My throat is tight, and I can barely force the words out. "And you don't expect someone you know to be at fault. It leaves this...this hole in you. My relationship with my father has never been great, but after my mom died...it's like we're strangers."

Katara looks up at me for a moment. Then she wraps her arms around me and presses her face into my chest. I freeze, startled, but then I snake my arms around her and pull her closer. I can feel the way she's shaking, and I don't think it has anything to do with the cold. She's warm and small beneath my hands, and I trace a soothing pattern on her back with one hand while I leave the other on her waist. Her hands are pressed into my shoulders with surprising strength, like maybe if she holds me tight enough we won't fall apart. I blink back tears and press my scarred cheek into her hair and just hold her.

When Katara lifts her head, she brings her hand up to wipe away the tears that have escaped. She doesn't step back from me, so we stand with just breathing room between us. I move my hands so they rest on her waist. It feels intimate, like we're more than just friends, and it feels right when I know that it shouldn't.

"I'm sorry." She lets out a nervous little laugh and wipes at her eyes again. "It's just been a really emotional day."

"Hey, it's okay." I offer her a smile.

Katara returns it, but then she steps back. I let my hands fall to my sides, and I suddenly feel chilled by her absence.

"I should probably go home." She doesn't sound like she wants to. "Are you ready to go?"

I nod. I'm not, but I think we both know that if we stay here we might end up doing something we'll both regret, and I don't want that. This moment we just shared feels far more intimate than something between friends should, and the guilt gnaws at me. Didn't I promise myself I wouldn't put her in a position like this?

We start back for the trail. This time, she doesn't take my hand.