Just This Night
Part Two
Sokka was having a rather, well, rough night. He could still hear Katara's voice…
"Oh, Jet, his eyes are sooo fantastic!"
She would whisper while Jet would pass by. Knowing Sokka as a rather curious character, he would peer into those eyes of Jet's, and figure out why Katara was so head over heels for him. Jet was altogether brilliant. The way that he would tilt his head to the right while he talked to you. The little chuckles he would give while telling a story of old friends. Sokka sighed and returned to the position that he usually slept in, not being able to sleep that way either. Being alone in this tent didn't do him any good. He ran a palm across his cheek. Wow, was he running a fever? His skin was hot to the touch; his neck was wet, as was his back. The blue shirt that he had worn since his leave from the Southern Water Tribe was starting to stick to his front.
Sokka propped himself up onto his elbows. He reminisced about his mother, recalling one cold day on which he had been playing outside, from morning 'till dusk. His coat was rather puffy and bothersome to the game they had been playing, so he took it off and laid it on the wet snow. That same night, his mother sat beside him while he coughed, sneezed, and sniffled. He never took off his coat again.
A salty tear ran down his already damp face, ending at the corners of his mouth. He wiped it away, ashamed that he was crying. Remembering that he was alone in his own little tent, he let the tears run down his cheeks. He was a silent crier, not making any sounds or movements. The pillow was warm when he laid his head onto it, switching to his right side and hugging himself. Oh how he missed his mother…
As soon as Sokka was finished crying, he sat up quietly, slipping off his shirt in the process. It was indeed warming up in his tent. He tossed his blue shirt onto a chair that was near him. Sokka shyly stuck an arm outside of his 'room', feeling the freshness of the early morning air. Giving a sigh of relief, he stepped outside, trekking on a creaky plank. He cringed, thinking he had woken up someone.
Who could have he woken up? The only tents near him were….
"Jet."
His name made Sokka's pulse flutter. Especially when it escaped his lips in such a manner. He started to tip-toe to the other end of the bridge that held this hideout together. He paused at the end of the wooden platform, standing on the edge of his toes; he tried to make out what Jet was doing. Knowing that he couldn't see that well in the dark, he sighed and gave up; he took another step forward, trailing on another creaky plank. He quickly retreated his foot and took in a deep breath, extending his arms out towards the canopy of the trees.
Although his sight wasn't all too good, his hearing sure was. Sokka had heard someone inhale sharply. He hastily put his arms down and looked to Jet's tent. Not being able to make out anything, he took a few, wide, steps towards it, being light on his feet, so he wouldn't wake grumpy planks of wood. When he arrived at the entrance, his fingers met the soft cloth of his fellow companions' shelter. Intuition was his leader; he drew in a deep breath, only to find a pair of green eyes who held his blue gaze.