A/N: This one was tough to write, but I did do a lot of research on the subject matter before I wrote it.

Trigger warning: This chapter contains scenes some readers may find triggering. Scenes include: Depictions of sexual activity, sexual aggression, some strong language and mental health.

I own nothing.

Turquoise

Katara felt like the world was shifting beneath her. Her limbs had begun to visibly shake with the power of her own heart thundering against her ribcage, numbing her ears to any sounds but her icy pulse. She could feel as her lungs tightened inside her chest, fighting with her to both take breaths and still, each breath more shallow and painful than the last. She knew what was happening to her, her brain had decided there was a danger and had gone into panic mode, the cold adrenaline swirling around her body had forced her into a fight or flight response. So often she chose flight.

Her eyes searched the lengthening hallway before her, first door on the right, she had at least remembered that much. Throwing the door open she pounded into the room, scanning it for the second door that would dictate a bathroom, once she had she flung that door open too, slamming it behind her in a need to escape.

Once she was in a place she deemed safe enough, she let it out. Her back against the dark wood of the door behind her, steadying her and the spinning world around her.

"Fucking Jet" she cursed as she leaned her head against the door, hot salty tears had long begun to fall down her face, leaving a trail of cold in their wake.

You'll never get better than me, babe. His voice ebbing into her panicked brain like blood from an open wound staining fresh white gauze.

"The hell I won't" she hissed as she wrapped her arms around herself, sliding down the door as her shaking limbs gave out. Her chest heaved at the memories of him, his fingers running down the developing contours of her body, his lips and teeth as he dug them into the softer skin of her shoulder.

Everyone knows you're mine. His voice echoed against the caverns of her skull. The feeling of his lips, as they sucked visible bruises on her neck, pulsating against her skin like an electric shock.

"Get out of my head" her whimpered reply filled the bathroom, her shaking fingers kneaded her throbbing temples. She felt as the acidic bile burned in her throat.

If you loved me you'd do it. His words rushed through her as if he was standing in front of her still. The image of that toothpick clamped between his wide toothy grin as he stared down at her, kneeling before him as he would so often request from her, a fist full of her wild curls in one hand and his other palm flat against the seat of his bike as her name left his lips breathless.

If you won't Katara, there are plenty of others that will. His hips snapping wildly against her as he pinned her arms above her head, his voice thick as he cursed in his ecstasy, she knew she'd be bruised and swollen again come morning. Another argument with her concerned father, another a lie to tell Sokka, another reason to hate herself.

It's not like it's your first time, why does it matter? His fingers dipping below the waistband of her jeans, bypassing the lacy band of her underwear. The pads of his fingers rougher than they needed to be, her eyes clamped shut as she tried to imagine being anywhere else. His hot breath clawing at her neck, as if the air he breathed was pumice to her skin, as he whispered his false words of love to her with a silver tongue before removing her jeans completely and filling himself with the pleasure she couldn't obtain.

"I hate you" she hissed as she threw her head back, allowing her tears to sear streaks of lava down her cheeks, jaw and throat.

"I hate you so much" she all but whispered into the emptiness of the bathroom, her voice echoing in the acoustic of the tiled room.

Katara had sat until it hurt too, her breath returning to her at a steady pace, her heart calming into a rhythmic beat, quieting enough for her to hear the storm beating against the frosted windowpane, her eyes burning from the tears she didn't have left to cry.

Once she was able she climbed to her still shaking legs, the panic had hidden the irritation her soaked clothes were providing against her skin. She felt the dirt and grime of the rain mixing with the salt of the lake all working together in a cacophony of irritating exfoliation. Her hair was stuck to her head, a heavy curtain of frizz that wrapped itself around her shoulders and waist.

Turning on the shower she peeled her clothes off and climbed in, giving no thought to the temperature as the room filled with soothing steam. After a moment of standing under the stream she began searching for some kind of shower gel or soap, anything she could use to cleanse away the smell of the salt, she knew all too well how sea salt could chafe as it dried.

She huffed as her initial search was unsuccessful, she had forgotten who's shower she was standing in, Zuko kept a clean house. He always did, everything in his room had a place. Katara was the same, as far as her bedroom was concerned, sharing a bathroom with Sokka had meant half-empty shampoo bottles, discarded soaps and shower gels he'd strewn across the sides of the tub, at some point, she had given up cleaning after him and instead placed her shower gels on the sides too.

Behind the mirror. The memory came to her as she tried to remember where he used to store his toiletries. A quick dash out of the shower had revealed she was right, she smiled at her success as she popped the cap and took in the scent. His scent.

She closed her eyes as she let the scent of smoke and sandalwood fill her, caressing her senses, soothing the cold ache that had settled in her stomach. She cradled the bottle in her hands as she climbed back into the shower, she doubted he'd have minded her using any. Something about sharing his scent made her feel giddy, even if it was a masculine scent she didn't mind.

Finishing off her shower and wrapping herself in the towel hanging on the door, using her towel to wrap up her still wet clothes, she dug through her bag, sending a silent prayer that she had remembered to bring clean underwear. It was only when she exited the bathroom into Zuko's bedroom did it occur to her that she had no clean clothes to wear. She had debated calling to him for something to wear but the words died in her throat when she eyed clothes laid out on top of his neatly made bed.

She felt her heart flutter as she made her way over to them, wondering at what point he'd come in and laid them there.

"He said I was the prepared one" she spoke softly to herself as she ran her fingers over the clothes he'd laid out. Gratefully she slipped into them, a plain pullover hoodie that was roomy and a pair of sweatpants, that fit her better than she cared to admit, she reasoned it was the pull tie and not that she had the same hip measurements as twenty-year-old, physically fit boyfr- the thought stilled her.

What does she call him? He wasn't her boyfriend, yet, but she didn't like the idea of calling him her ex-boyfriend either. Calling him a friend, while technically right, didn't feel like a strong enough word for what was between them. She could call him the man she loved, but that made it sound so sombre as if it was past tense. Lover wasn't right either, not only did that sound too old fashioned but it also made their relationship sound purely physical. She sighed as she pushed the thought from her head. She knew it wasn't something she could decide on her own anyway.

Showered, dressed and clean Katara took the opportunity to look around his room, not knowing when she'd get the chance to again. The walls were painted a dark blue and bare save for a large flat-screen television hanging above a wide chest of drawers, the furniture was of a matching set, sleek black with slate coloured handles, two-bedside tables stood guard at either side of his large bed adorned with only a lamp on one side and an alarm clock on the other. The curtains were of the same dark slate as the small rug at the foot of his bed and for the darkness, the room was seeped in, she could tell they were blackout curtains. On the far side of the wall, next to the television, was a set of four hanging shelves, also black, practically empty save for a handful of business textbooks, a few bottles of cologne, and a bottle of eye drops.

Part of her was surprised by the lack of personal touches in his room, no pictures, she understood why, no games consoles, he used to love playing video games, no books, science fiction or otherwise, save for college textbooks, no sketchbooks or art supplies, he used to like to draw and from what she had remembered he was fairly good at it too, no CD's or DVD's, he used to have them despite his access to streaming services, and no posters adorning the walls. The room she was standing in was a far cry from the room he used to have but she supposed it was due to maturity.

Satisfied with her surface snooping, as much as she wanted to dig through his drawers and closet she didn't dare invade his privacy like that, she left the room and followed the sounds of clattering dishes, her wet clothes balled in her towel, leading her to the kitchen.

When she entered, he was standing on the far side of the room, his broad back to her, head down as he worked on whatever task he was doing before she arrived. She could see from the damp patch in between his shoulder blades and the way his longer raven locks limped lazily against the base of his head, he too must have showered.

"Can I help you with anything?" She speaks first, she watched as his whole body grew stiff under the sound of her voice, his shoulders squared, his head rising ever so slightly as if he would turn to her. She tilted her head, brows knitting together at the strangeness of his reaction as he shook his head in reply to her.

She reasoned he was tired from the day and thought nothing more of it as she sat at the island separating them. The silence was long and drawn out between them, growing almost suffocating as Katara worried at her lip for something to say. Normally when Zuko would grow deathly quiet he was somewhere inside his head, overthinking some detail or trapped in a memory she was afraid was hurting him.

"I used your shower gel, I hope you don't mind," her mind reached for after the silence had grown almost deafening, only the sounds of the raging summer storm or the gentle tap of a knife against a chopping board could be heard in the large room.

"Yeah, It's fine" came his rasped reply, the relief from hearing his reply to her soothed the trepidation she had been feeling since she'd entered the kitchen. At least it meant he was with her in the present and not hurting himself inside his head. The silence finally broke, albeit, by a somewhat clipped tone, she began to search for anything else she could say to keep the conversation alive.

"This really is a nice house, so warm and inviting, I-"

"Katara, I'm sorry" His voice, heavy with something she couldn't quite understand, fragile, cut her off. She didn't like how that had sounded. Her heart picked up in her chest, it was rare he would use her full name, he would reserve the use for teasing her or something serious, ever since they had first become friends he would use the abbreviated 'Kat', he was the only who would call her that. Her father would call her 'firecracker', Sokka and Suki would call her 'Tara', Aang and Yue would use her full name and Toph would flit between her stupid nicknames for her, 'Sweetness' or 'Sugar Queen'.

"Zuko?" She questioned through a dry mouth, the last time she could remember him calling her Katara without some sort of smirk was in the library four days prior and that had come from shock, before then it had been when they had decided on a clean break. Her stomach lurched at the memory.

They had been in his bedroom, tears hadn't stopped falling since she'd arrived, her head buried in his chest. She hadn't stopped apologising to him, repeating the same five words over and over again. 'I don't want to go' as if they were the only words that would ever matter. He had been silent as if he was made of stone.

Five months hadn't been long enough for either of them, they had wanted so much more, craved so much more time with the other. She'd have been sixteen the following week and he'd told her to 'save some time' for him as if she hadn't been planning to spend her whole birthday with him.

It had been the first time he had told her he loved her and the day they had broken their hearts. The memory was still painful, she didn't like thinking about it. She had cried herself sore for weeks afterwards, not even Sokka could get her to calm down. But his tone was heavy, regretful, pained… it was too similar. She didn't like it. She didn't want to relive their break up two years later before she'd even had a chance to be his girlfriend again. She didn't want to lose him.

"I said I'd go at your pace and I- I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. I'm sorry" He had stunned her to silence. She didn't know what she had been expecting but it wasn't that. She stared at his back for a while trying to unriddle his apology, why he was apologising and what he was apologising for? For a moment she sat in silence wondering what he had meant before it hit her like a train.

Shit.

Immediately she was on her feet, wrapping her arms around his middle and crushing herself against his back, she felt him stiffen. In her desperation to flee, she hadn't taken much in, her head was chaotic, her heart was pounding hard enough to escape her chest and her sight had narrowed. She had no control over herself, she wanted to run. It hadn't registered to her how her panic attack would have looked… how he would find a way to blame himself.

"Oh my gods, Zuko, No… that… none of that was your fault. Spirits, I'm so sorry. That wasn't your fault" came her stammered reply as she buried her face in his back. Try as she might recall the memory, she couldn't. The last thing she remembered with any degree of clarity was kissing him, she remembered pulling him on top of her, getting lost in his touch, in his lips, his deep hot kisses. She remembered that fire flaring inside her, the one only Zuko could bring out in her, she remembered wanting him as much as he wanted her... and then she remembered hearing Jet's voice again. He taunted her…

That's a good girl. You know how I like it when I don't have to ask…

She had felt the fire in her veins douse immediately at the sound of his voice, a cold numbness radiating from her stomach as it began to take over her limbs. She had begun to slip somewhere dark, she didn't feel Zuko's lips anymore, she didn't feel his touch, she felt dirty… the thunderclap had brought her back. She wasn't in Jet's room looking at the moon through his skylight and clouded tearful eyes, she was at the lake with Zuko. She was safe. She had clung to him as they rode through the city gates, her grip tightened as another memory took over.

She had remembered a time where she had been on another bike racing at top speed through a winding forest road, Jet was an adrenaline junky and he'd ride his bike at thoughtless speeds. She'd cling to his sides for dear life, her heart in her throat, fear gripping her. He'd never given her a helmet because he'd never worn one. She remembered thinking she was going to die when the rain had broken out overhead. To her surprise, he had pulled off into an old disused bus stop. She barely had time to get under the shelter before his mouth was on hers, aggressively forcing his tongue into her mouth, his grip so tight against her hips that it hurt. She tried to return his kiss, to get lost in it, to feel what she'd felt before. She so desperately wanted to feel that spark again…

But she hadn't, she never did. Jet wasn't able to bring it out of her, he couldn't bring out the fire in her either… but it didn't stop her from trying. So when he broke the kiss off and began to suck at her neck, leaving those visible bruises for all to see, she didn't stop him. When he slipped his hand down her jeans, she didn't stop him, and when he asked her to use her mouth in return she didn't say no. But she wished she had, she wished she'd told him no when he first asked her out. She wished she'd told her father or Sokka or someone about how much pain she was in… but she didn't. She just wanted to feel and the pain was a feeling too.

"That look on your face…" his fragile voice brought her back to the present, his heartbeat steady under her cheek.

"Wasn't your fault... please believe me" She whispered as she tightened her grip. The silence smothered them as if the rain from outside had filled the kitchen and was drowning them both. She didn't know what to say, she was too ashamed to admit to him that she'd been thinking about her ex while he kissed her- she knew how that sounded, and despite the hostile armour he wore she knew the man she loved well enough to know he'd turn that statement on himself. He'd done it before, he'd fall on a sword that wasn't his. She didn't want that. Jet had hurt her enough, she didn't want him hurting Zuko too.

"I'll take you back when the weather calms down," he was first to break the devastating silence. The statement would have been so normal given any other context, but it just served to panic Katara more right now. She didn't want that, she didn't want to leave him alone thinking he was the reason she'd had a panic attack. She had kissed him. She had pulled him onto her. She had deepened the kiss… she had wanted to be intimate. She loathed whatever person had done this to him, whatever person had made it so he blamed himself for everything. She made a silent promise to herself that if she ever met that person she'd make them sorely regret it.

"Zuko, please. Whatever you think you did, you didn't. I've always felt safe with you. I'm sorry. Please I'm so sorry" she whimpered. She wished she could talk to Suki or Yue right now, she wished one of them could tell her what to do or say to make it better. Who did this to him? Who hurts him like this? The words burned on her tongue so fiercely.

"You have nothing to apologise for" He spoke softly. She felt the bile creep into her throat, anger bubbling in her gut mixing with the hatred she was feeling for Jet and this faceless person who'd she'd sworn vengeance against. Her anger overtook her shame, she'd been damned if Zuko was shouldering any of Jet's blame. Hell would have to freeze over before she let that happen, and in the event, it did freeze she'd unfreeze it with the fury tearing through her veins.

"Neither do you…" She reassured, knowing he'd already decided he was to blame.

"You hungry? I can't cook but-" she knew his tactic, Zuko didn't lie, he was more inclined to change the topic. She wouldn't let him, not today. Shame be damned.

"I had a bad ex!" Her voice rang louder than she had intended it to, the words were heavier on her tongue than she thought they'd be and she found she couldn't remove the anger she'd been feeling completely from her voice either. But she'd said them now and she couldn't take them back.

"What?" His tone had shifted immediately. To what she couldn't quite grasp for the new panic had begun to settle in her gut. She had spoken but his question had taken her off guard regardless. Her confidence waned as did that stubborn fire she'd stoked into herself. She hadn't thought ahead, she'd just acted at the moment and now she felt raw, exposed.

"My ex-boyfriend… He erm, he only liked the physical stuff..." She stammered, that shame rearing its ugly head. It burned her cheeks and stung her chest. where had the confidence from less than a minute ago disappeared too? "...And, um, he was… a little rough sometimes" she continued knowing she had nowhere to run.

"Rough?" He spoke, his tone carrying a sudden timber. He had straightened up in her arms, suddenly he was standing a few inches taller than he had been. She didn't know what to make of it, but she couldn't back away from this now. No matter the consequence.

"Yeah, he… was a little aggressive? Sometimes" she found her mouth was as dry as her veins, she felt cold and filled with sand.

"Aggressive?" He questioned, a slight growl entering his words, Katara felt her stomach drop. Was he angry with her? Maybe he was ashamed of her.

"Maybe, that isn't the right word… I guess, he was pushy…" she shifted on her feet, she felt itchy all of a sudden. Wasn't she supposed to be on a date? She wished she could go back to the lake, back to playing in the water and laughing about old times…

"Did he hurt you?" His voice was a deep guttural rasp, she could feel the weight of his words rumble inside his chest. She understood his words but didn't understand his question.

"What?" The words were a heavy whisper as they left her dry mouth.

"Katara, did he hurt you?" His tone hadn't changed, there was no soft edge to his voice, it was hard and cold, a growl slipping into the vowels. He was angry. She could feel it in the tightness of his muscles… she had forgotten how hot his anger burned as if he was made of fire himself… but this was a different level, if his usual bad temper was fire this was a mega-flare.

"I don't understand the question" her voice was quiet. A shade above a whisper.

It was then that he turned to face her, his usually handsome face was twisted into the deepest scowl she'd ever seen, the hard lines of his scar making him look older and more fearsome than she knew him to be, the anger flaring in his eyes as if they were molten gold in a kiln. Anyone with sense would have been afraid, should have been afraid, the fury peeling off of him in tendrils was enough to suffocate the air out of the room and yet she wasn't. He didn't scare her.

"Did he, whoever the fuck he is, did he hurt you?" he asked again, his voice a growl. She felt her heart raced inside her chest as she batted the question around in her frozen brain. He'd made some comments after they'd broke up, let the whole town know about their relationship, sometimes after sex she'd find a small bruise from his fingertips or an inconveniently placed hicky, but he didn't hurt her physically… then it hit her. His anger, his reaction… she knew what he was asking.

"No! No! Not like that. It was consensual, but he was always rougher than I wanted. He liked it more often too…" she felt the shame burn her face as she averted her gaze from him, feeling suddenly disgusted with herself.

"If I didn't… he'd go elsewhere and I was so desperate for something! A friend or anything that would just stop the loneliness… that I let him" she continued, the words pouring from her, she had this need to explain it to him. To explain herself…

"I was just so alone… Sokka, that idiot, was at college and I'm not him y'know? I can't make friends as easily as he can…" she felt the tears pour from her eyes. She felt like her entire body itched like she'd been turned inside out and dipped in ice before being righted again and set on fire. She couldn't stop herself from talking and when she had and a long drawn out silence fell over them, she wished she hadn't.

"I get it" He was the first to break the silence.

She turned to face him, her eyes still pouring hot tears. She didn't know what she was expecting to see but the look of understanding on his face both relieved and broke her heart. She wouldn't have wished that level of painful isolation on anyone, let alone him.

"You do?" Her voice was so breakable, her heart squeezed hard inside her chest. She didn't want that for him...

"Yeah. I do. After you left, I was angry and I couldn't blame anyone. But I just had this unrelenting anger in me… I said some things I'm not proud of to my uncle..." his face had softened a shade but only to allow for the hurt to seep in. She felt a strangled whimper leave her throat, she wanted nothing more than to erase that look from his face.

"Zuko…" the raw expression on his face tore at her, clawing the words from her throat. She'd never seen him look so vulnerable, so hurt and angry…

"I was so angry and uncle was so understanding that I just… I didn't want to feel angry anymore so I went back to live with my dad. There was this girl, I guess technically she's my ex too" he spoke.

"She had mastered the art of not feeling, everything was too boring or too much effort, and she liked me and being around her made it easy to just not feel. So I clung to her. Played the perfect son, attended the perfect college, dated the perfect girl, was everything my dad wanted me to be" his voice trailed off, lost in some thought she couldn't begin to unwind.

"Did it work?" Katara croaked, her voice was hoarse from her tears.

"For a time, but I felt like I was asleep. Like I was living a life that wasn't mine. One day I just woke up and when I did I was a mess. No one from my new life cared and I realised that I wasn't them. I needed to feel. So I called the only person who would care" came his easy reply, to her relief his face softened, an affection appearing through the cracks in his hard stare.

"Uncle Iroh" She offered, a smile broke across his face, the same soft and affectionate look he always had when he'd speak of his beloved uncle, she felt as a fresh set of tears poured from her eyes. If she hadn't already held a deep fondness for the man then she did now.

"He took me back without a second thought, I was an adult by then so he didn't have to, but he did. Brought me here, cleaned me up and helped me transfer to BSSU" Zuko finished, she had questions but it wasn't the time to ask. She was willing to bet he felt as raw as she did, like a layer of fresh skin after a sunburn. But he had been so open with her, so real. Her heart picked up speed inside her chest… but so had she…

"My Dad helped me. I was awful to him, but he didn't treat me any differently. He still called me his little girl, and when I got into BSSU he was the first person to celebrate with me" Katara spoke as a soft smile appeared on her face. A sudden overwhelming love for her father gripped her. Hakoda didn't know everything, but he knew enough to know she wasn't his innocent little girl anymore, he knew something deep had shifted in her. The thought brought a warmth to her, her father had never judged her for it. Never made her feel ashamed. She let the warmth spread through her before it sobered.

Her father may not have judged her for it, but he was her dad. He was supposed to love her no matter what. Dad's were great that way… but her father was her father. She wasn't deeply in love with him, she didn't want to date him...

Zuko watched as the smile washed from her face, her warmth had shifted into something he'd recognised from the rare times he'd looked in the mirror, the distant glassy look of someone who was trapped inside a dark thought. She was open with him, so very open and honest. He wondered if part of her regretted it. He didn't. Even though the hard ache of his chest and the churning of his gut, he had felt a spark of joy when she'd asked questions. When she'd dug that little bit deeper. He knew he had wanted her to ask, but he didn't know how badly he had wanted it until she had. He knew now for certain, that no matter what she asked he could answer her. He wanted to answer her. It had been easy too.

He wanted that for her too. He wanted her to talk to him, he wasn't the best with words or feelings but he wanted to be that for her. He wanted to be for her what she had been for him. He had been right also, there wasn't anything she could say to him to make him change how he felt about her… whoever this ex was, on the other hand, he'd burn him alive if he ever got his hands on him. He didn't know he could feel such a hatred for a person he'd never met before, but he'd made a silent promise that, should they ever cross paths, he would make him regret ever hurting her.

But now wasn't the time to get lost in vengeful thoughts against a faceless ex. Katara was inside her head and he needed to ease her out of it.

"Kat?" He asked softly as she pushed some of her damp hair from her cheek, he could see a little of the curl returning to her hair. The sight of the barley there wave of her wet hair tugged at the corners of his mouth. He missed those curls, a part of him was glad to see they weren't completely gone.

"If you want to stop this now, I would get it. I mean, It'd kill me, but I would get it" She spoke in the same fragile voice as before, The thought ceased his hand.

End it? The words echoed in his head as his brow furrowed. Surely, she didn't mean them? He let the words sit in his head for a moment as he tried to dissect them. Did she think he would leave her because her ex-boyfriend was an asshole? Or was it because her ex-boyfriend was an asshole that she thought he would leave her?

Another thought hit him. He knew the signs well enough, he'd lived them all. Was living with them all. This ex had hurt her. He'd been mentally abusive, he wouldn't have sworn at her or outright insulted her, he would have played on her insecurities, twisted her words and made her feel small. In other words, he was like Azula. She wouldn't have noticed it until it was too late until she found herself hating some part of herself she didn't have an opinion on before. He'd have used manipulative microaggressions to get her to do what he wanted her to do. Throw away comments, undetectable at the time…

He hated him. He didn't know who he was but he hated him. That boy would curse the day he was born if he ever got within a hundred yards of him. But he didn't have the time to waste on the hateful little bastard. He wasn't his problem right now, the girl with the pained blue eyes was and he would be damned if she was going to hurt herself over the words of some small-town loser.

"Never. It'd kill me too, Katara" his reply was confident.

I love you. He didn't add.

"So you will want to date me?" She asked half choked, her voice was still wet from her tears.

"I meant what I said. I'll go at whatever pace you want" he spoke as he slipped his arms around her shoulders. She wrapped her arms around his middle burying her cheek against his chest in return, He felt a relief wash over him as she melted against him.

"When can I call you my boyfriend?" She spoke as her grip tightened around his middle. He felt his chest pound hard, no doubt she could feel the force under her cheek. If she did, she didn't say anything.

"Whenever you want" he replied with a confidence he was both surprised by and proud of as he placed a soft kiss on the top of her head.

"Now?" She asked.

"Now" he replied.

The pair fell into a comfortable silence, the sound of the storm raging outside filling the room. He held her as he did on Friday, his cheek buried in her hair and his arms holding her against his wildly racing chest.

His girlfriend. His Katara. The thought spread a smile across his face. He had wanted to say that again for the last two years.

"Sokka's gonna be pissed" Katara spoke, first breaking the comfortable silence. She felt that familiar rumble from his chest but instead of a low chuckle or a scoff he laughed. Head back laughter. She leaned her chin on his chest, a laugh escaping her too. He really had the most beautiful laugh.

A/N: We're not done here. There is so much story left to tell. More Zutara goodness coming your way. Stay tuned.

I know this chapter was a heavy one, but it was due. If you or someone you know is struggling with any of the issues above, please ask for help.

Please R&R