Chapter 19: Play Pretend
Not for the first time in her life, Toph says a silent thank you to her element as she enters police headquarters. Fall may be approaching, but summer seems determined to remain for as long as possible, and the stone and metal insulation of the precinct offers a cool sanctuary from the otherwise relentless heat and humidity outside. The earthy interior reminds her almost of a cave – cool and steady no matter the season, immune to the other, more temperamental elements outside. It's always a relief - especially in summer months - and she's grateful as her feet find solace, stepping in from the scalding pavement outside and meeting the cool limestone of the station's floor.
Still, the metal of her uniform stays hot to the touch, baked by the afternoon sun. The fabric of her underclothes clings to her skin as sweat piles at her neck and trickles down her spine. Her cheeks are on fire, both from sun and exertion, and her breath is heavy as she catches it. She tastes the salt from her skin, her tongue darting out to lick at her chapped lips. Her once bouncy fringe now falls flat against her forehead, hair plastered down by sweat, and she's pretty sure that the stale, unpleasant smell that's wrinkling her nose is coming from her.
It's sticky and uncomfortable, and all she wants to do right now is bend off her uniform and maybe even take a bath, 'healthy coating of earth' be damned.
But fuck does she love it.
There's nothing quite like the high she gets from coming in off the field after an exciting arrest, and it's worth every sweaty, sticky and stinky inch of skin.
She feels her officers trail in behind her and teeter off to usher their catch down to a holding cell, and she lets herself take in the congratulatory pats and boosts of pride as she struts down the bustling hallways of the station, towards her office. For as stressful as her job is, the station feels like home, and it's moments like this that offer that sweet rush of adrenaline and endorphins that makes it all worth it.
Most of the time, her job is a lot less action filled than one would think. It mostly involves making civilized arrests after a process of acquiring a warrant, or often just sending her officers to go have fun on the field while she's stuck at the precinct taking care of shit on the back end (Ugh. For someone who's blind, she gets stuck doing an awful lot of paperwork). But sometimes, it's as intense and athletic and amazing as one would expect. There's nothing like bending for the sake of real, high-stakes, crime-fighting combat, and there's nothing like walking through the station after a high stress, yet successful arrest. It reminds her of her glory days at the Earth Rumble - she feels dirty and gross, but in all the best ways, and her veins pump with more satisfaction than blood. She can't see the look on people's faces, but she can feel people's reverence and respect, and her chin always tilts a little higher as a result.
Spirits, she needed this.
After everything that's happened with Yakone this past year, it feels nice to have a victory for a change. Even if it has nothing to do with him, it's enough to temper the constant pit in her stomach, at least for now.
She takes a deep inhale, then exhale as she continues the trek to her office. Just breathe, Toph. In. Out. Breathe.
It's something Aang has been reminding her to do lately. Of course, his constant preaching about the 'benefits of mediating' and 'taking time for one's self' are irritating beyond belief, so she'd never admit to him that it's helped - even just a bit. Not that she'd call what she's doing 'meditating' exactly. She's far too busy to sit around and waste her time just breathing, or whatever it is that Twinkletoes does. As far as Toph is concerned, she can meditate when she's dead.
But… she has tried to be a little easier on herself. She has to keep reminding herself: whatever happens with the Yakone case, it's not her fault. She's doing her job. She can't control if others don't do theirs.
In. Out. Breathe.
Besides, things are looking up with the Yakone case… well, in a very slight, miniscule, kind-of-sort-of kind of way.
Since his preliminary over a year ago, Yakone has already faced two other judges through the prosecutor's appeal attempts. Each time, he's gone in with that same smug posture and posse of loyal followers. Each time getting a pass on account of 'not-enough-evidence'. And each time a sharper blow to Toph's morale than the last.
It's a joke, Toph thinks. A mockery of justice and waste of everyone's time - namely hers.
But, on the plus side, they're finally starting to put together a more substantial case against him. Toph wouldn't quite call it a solid case, but it's stronger than it was before. Good enough, anyway, to give her a twinge of hope that they're onto something. Plus, they've been able to keep better track of Yakone and his cronies' whereabouts now. That at least gives them a better sense of when and where to amp up security detail and hopefully prevent more people from getting hurt in the meantime while they build up the case.
It will be a long time (too long, in Toph's opinion) before it'll happen, but she still hopes they can bring this case all the way up to the council. And by the time they get there, Toph knows they'll have a strong enough case to convict him. They have to. Though, they still don't have proof to support the bloodbending charges, which is the key thread this case hangs on. Based on the few witness testimonies and the evidence they do have, the pattern indicates that if Yakone has been bloodbending, it's been at any and all times besides in the presence of a full moon. Stranger things have happened, but Toph knows that it presents a weak case. They'll either need direct evidence or a heck of a lot more witnesses to give even a chance of Yakone being convicted. Which basically means they need a miracle.
Ugh, she's doing it again. Breathe, Toph. Don't think about Yakone.
Besides, she's still riding her high from catching the bad guy (a different, not as bad one, but still) and she's not about to let Yakone ruin her mood when he's not even here. In fact, she feels so good right now... that she thinks today might be the day. Yup. Definitely. She's going to do it. 100%
Well... Maybe.
She's been meaning to reach out to Sokka for a while now, but she hasn't quite mustered up the nerve yet - much to her own annoyance. It just feels so… unlike her. Toph has always prided herself on being upfront and honest – she's not one to shy away from her fears, and she prefers to deal with her issues head on. An earthbender in every sense of the word, she's decisive and assured and not afraid to take action. Except, apparently – for reasons she can't quite understand herself - when it comes to Sokka.
She hasn't spoken to or heard from him since their…um… falling out. Breathe. In. Out. Over a year later, and the words still taste dirty on her tongue. Just as Aang had said, Sokka is her family – they're not meant to have 'falling outs' and not make up eventually. Right? He's also her best friend. Her best friend, who she hasn't touched or laughed with or spoken to or heard from in over a year. It doesn't sit well, that's for sure.
Aang and Katara keep 'subtly' suggesting she reach out to him and mend fences, and she wants to. Spirits, she wants to. But, does he even want to hear from her? Is he still angry with her? Is she angry with him? Is she supposed to be? And, what's more, how does she even begin to make things right?
Hey, Sokka. Sorry that I suck at sharing my feelings and that I fucked up our relationship. Oh, and sorry that I made you cheat on your wife by kissing you. But hey, let's be friends again, yeah?
Yeah, not exactly an easy subject to broach.
The thought is enough to reseed that pit in her stomach as she opens the door to her office and steps inside. Her previous adrenaline is wearing off, replaced by sore muscles and a bit of stubborn heat stroke, and she trudges into her office with far less poise than she's used to after an exciting arrest. She releases a deep, weighted sigh as she plops herself gracelessly into the seat at her desk, and her hand flies up to wipe the sweat from her face, wearily.
She's grateful for the day's success, but now she just wants to go home and spend what little spare time she has with her daughter. Ugh. The thought of Lin is enough to spark yet another flicker of guilt, and Toph lets out one more sigh, weighed down by remorse. She can count on one hand the hours she's properly spent with her daughter in the last week, and she notes to herself to make up for it soon.
But for now, there's still a shit ton of work to get done, so she mentally prepares herself for the rest of her workday. Her secretary - a somewhat mousy, intelligent woman called Miki – comes in carrying a stack of letters and reports, here for their daily debriefing. She hears Miki wrinkle her nose with an offensive sniff, and Toph suddenly remembers how badly she must need a bath. Somehow, that thought actually gives her a second twinge of pride, and she smiles to herself, impishly. That's what happens when you chase criminals in 100-degree heat. I've earned these sore muscles and this sweaty stench.
I'm The Greatest Earthbender of all time.
It's a thought she's shamefully not had as much these days - with all the second guessing lately - but it's one she clings to, deeply. Her emotional baggage may grow heavier day by day, but if there's one thing she's good at, it's earthbending.
And, when she doesn't overthink it so much, she's good at taking action too.
"Miki," Toph directs, before she can overthink it, "I need you to help write a letter for me today."
"Of course, Chief," Miki sits across from Toph at her desk, "Do you want to write it now or shall I read out the reports first?"
"Uh," Toph gulps, a second wind of nerves prompting her, "Let's go over the reports and whatever mail there is first. Then we'll write the letter."
"Sure thing, Chief."
Toph listens to the rustling of papers as Miki prepares the first report and starts reading it out loud, her nasally voice never very pleasant to listen to. This is always the most tedious part of Toph's day, but an important one. She needs to stay on top of the paperwork, otherwise it piles up into hours of work (and Toph's patience for listening to her secretary only goes so far).
Still, she's already regretting her decision to not get her letter to Sokka over and done with, as her nerve slowly drains out the window with each passing report. But patience is a virtue, and the quicker they get this done the quicker she can write her letter to Sokka, go home, take a bath, pick up Lin, and spend time with her daughter. So, she does her best to listen and respond accordingly as she and Miki go over the reports, one-by-one, until enough time passes that Toph loses track of it. Eventually, they're ready to move on from the reports and onto Toph's mail, and she lets herself release a breath of relief. This part is at least a little bit more fun.
"Okay, Miki," Toph leans back in her chair, her feet propped up on the desk, "What do ya got for me?"
"Um," Miki starts, unceremoniously, "Mostly nonsense, I'm afraid. Here's one from the local anti-bender association."
Toph rolls her eyes, scoffing out an amused laugh, "Oh brother. What do they want this time?"
"Same as usual," Miki responds, sardonically, "They just want to remind you how 'benders are a stain on civilization,' and how they didn't appreciate you 'breaking up their last meeting' with your earthbending."
"Pfft, 'meeting'. That's a funny word for organised bigotry, isn't it?" Toph cracks her knuckles, casually, "Did they have any other 'bits of wisdom' to share?"
"Uh," Miki pauses, Toph guesses to skim over the letter, "Oh, here's something new! It says, 'one of these days benders will get what's coming to them and we'll all be equalized', whatever that means."
"Ooh," Toph mocks, rolling her eyes again, "I'm so scared."
There's a pause as the threat looms in the air, but only a moment later, Toph and Miki break into a fit of giggles. Miki tries to keep her laughter light and professional, while Toph is a little less graceful, her shoulders shaking and hands clutching stomach as she lets out un-ladylike snort. It's not funny – not by any means, really – but they're not unfamiliar with these types of letters. They've gotten so much hate mail from the anti-bender groups over the years, the only way to deal with it is to make fun of it. She doesn't really care what people think, but Toph tries not to think of the prejudice behind it unless she has to. For now, the threats are empty, and as long as it stays that way, Toph intends to keep the anti-benders classified as harmless. She's got enough on her plate without having to worry about some anti-bender uprising.
"Okay," Toph's laughter slowly putters off. She wipes an amused tear from her eye, "What else ya got?"
More paper shuffling as Miki sorts through the mail, weeding through the stream of takeout adverts and spam letters. Soon enough, she finds something that piques her interest, and Toph listens as Miki turns the piece of mail around in her hands, inspecting it for some reason, before tearing it open with an audible rip. She unfolds what sounds like a sheet of paper – a letter? - inspecting it further.
"Hmm, that's strange." Miki says, the confusion clear in her voice, "This one is anonymous."
Toph gnaws at a fingernail, nonchalantly, "What does it say?"
"Oh," Miki's voice falls into a serious one, "Uh, it's not very nice. In fact, it's kind of threatening."
Toph refrains from rolling her eyes, "Just read it to me."
"Um, okay," Miki sighs, reluctantly, "It says, 'Chief Bitch - if you know what's good for you, you'll stay away.'"
Toph furrows her brows, curiously, "Hmm, does it say anything else?"
"No, that's all it says." Toph listens to the woosh as Miki turns the sheet of paper around in her hands, giving the front and back another once over, "That's dumb - it doesn't even say who or what you're meant to 'stay away' from."
Without having to think, "Yakone."
"I'm sorry?" Toph hears the bewilderment in Miki's voice, "How… How do you know?"
"Well, I can't say for sure," she shrugs, still unbothered, "But it's addressed to 'Chief Bitch', right?"
Miki shifts, uncomfortably, "That's right."
Toph digs into her memory. It's been years, but she remembers the threat Yakone's gang made to her, right around the time she got pregnant with Lin. CHIEF BITCH, the characters spelled out in shards of glass and debris, armed and ready to puncture Toph's naked feet. Of course, nothing had actually happened, so she didn't think much of it at the time. And she had told Sokka about it once, but she hasn't given much thought about it since, either. It does, however, make her almost positive that this new threat comes from Yakone's crew. 'Chief Bitch' seems a little too purposeful to be a coincidence.
"Hmmm," Toph taps her chin - thinking aloud, "They must know we're building a stronger case against him, so they're trying to scare me by making threats."
"Well," Miki starts to ask, fear whittling away at her voice, "Aren't you worried? Should we… do something?"
"Pfft," Toph brushes off her concern, unimpressed, "Please. They're just trying to scare me with idle threats, but I doubt they'd be stupid enough to try anything. Yakone's got enough charges on his hands, they're not going to add 'assaulting a police officer' to that list."
"I see your point," Miki responds, though she still sounds unsure, "But that would hardly be the worst of his crimes. Extortion. Trafficking. Murder. The list goes on. If he already has so many racketeering charges against him, what's one more? Aren't you at least a little concerned?"
Admittedly, she has a point. But still…
"Fuck no. I'm The Greatest Earthbender of all time," Toph reminds Miki (and again, herself), "What can he do to me? Besides, we're already on high alert and tracking his whereabouts. There's not much more we can do, and I'm not about to waste our resources on idle, anonymous threats, even if there was."
"But, Chief," Miki insists, tone rising above her station, firmer than before, "I know it's not my place, and I know you can take care of yourself, but what about Lin? What about the Avatar's kids? What if Yakone intends to harm them?"
Toph narrows her eyes at Miki, not because of her inappropriately bold tone, but the words themselves. Is she doubting Toph's abilities to take care of her own kid? Probably not - Miki is more respectful than that, and she's never doubted Toph's abilities before. In truth, she raises another valid concern – one that Toph was admittedly trying to avoid. The mere thought that someone could target Lin with malicious intent is one that sparks a deep sense of rage and protectiveness that even Toph is surprised she's capable of. If anyone got their hands on Lin, or Aang and Katara's kids for that matter…
"I'd never let that happen." Toph swallows, hard and uncompromising, "Now, is there any other mail I should care about, or can we wrap this up and get to writing that letter so we can both go home?"
There's a pause, and Toph can tell Miki is reluctant to let the threat go. She sighs, clearly dissatisfied by Toph's stubbornness, but knows better than to push it, "Actually, there is one more letter here that you might want me to read."
"Fine," Toph groans, that previously mentioned 'patience' wearing thin, "Who's it from and what the fuck do they want?"
"Um," Miki begins, "It's from your friend. Master Sokka."
"Sokka!?" Immediately, Toph's legs fall off her desk, her feet hitting the floor with a graceless thump as she sits up in her seat, abruptly. Her heart races on whim, and the sweat that had finally dried from her skin again starts to heat up, her palms dampening with nerves. She tries not to sound too eager when she asks, "What does it say?"
Miki clears her throat, then begins to read, monotonously, "Dear Toph, I hope this letter finds you well," her tone changes, tightening with a bit of awkwardness as she reads, "I know we haven't spoken in a while, and we left things on not-so-great terms, but I've been giving a lot of thought to our relationship lately, and I want you to know that you'll always be my family.
"I miss you, and I hope we can reconnect soon and talk about what happened. I want us to work through it. However, the reason I am reaching out now is because I actually have news to share regarding Kahlia, and I thought it was important you hear it from me."
Miki's voice trails off as she takes a pause on reading the letter, but Toph needs a second to calm her breath anyway, as her heart flutters from her chest. She can't keep the smile from her face and the hope from welling in her gut. In ordinary circumstances, having such a personal letter read aloud by her secretary would make her blush, but she's too elated to care.
Sokka misses me. And it sounds like he wants to fix our relationship. And… News about Kahlia? Could he… could he be leaving her? She mentally smacks herself at the thought. That's not what matters right now. All that matters is him, and the fact that he's giving her a chance to make things right.
Toph bounces her leg, eager to hear the rest, "So, what's the news?" she waits, but Miki seems unwilling to continue. Toph inches to the edge of her seat, gesturing impatiently, "Well?"
Miki clears her throat again, her voice tight with reluctance, "Um, it says," she pauses again, gulps down a lump in her throat, then braves, "Kahlia and I are expecting our first child together. By the time you get this letter, she should be about 4 or so months along."
Toph's fluttering heart nearly stops.
Miki continues reading the rest of Sokka's letter…something about him wishing Lin a happy birthday, being sorry he couldn't be there, looking forward to the next time he's in the city. Something along those lines anyway. Toph has already stopped listening, unable to process new information.
Kahlia and I are expecting our first child together.
She has no right to be upset. None at all. Her best friend is going to have a child with his wife, whom he still loves. As he should, because she's his wife. Not her. Toph should be thrilled. No, she is thrilled! Sokka's going to be a dad. That's great news! She has no right to be upset. No. None at all.
Why then, does she feel her heart drop?
"Chief?" Miki interrupts her thoughts, and Toph suddenly remembers where she is, "Did you get all that? Do you want me to read it again?"
Please, once was more than enough.
"No, thank you, Miki," Toph responds, detached and far away, "That's enough for today."
There's a pause, then pity, "Are you alright, Chief?"
Toph clenches her hands into fists at her side. No. But she's not about to admit that, of course,"I'm fine. Are we done now?"
"What about the letter you wanted to write?"
Oh. Right.
"Um," Toph chokes down the lump in her throat, "Yes, can you just help me respond to Sokka, please?"
"Of course, Chief," There's that pity again. Toph listens further to the sounds of more paper rustling, though her focus is mostly on keeping the sudden well in her chest from overflowing, "Okay, ready. What shall I write?"
"Just tell him…" Toph pauses to breathe, resigned, "Tell him that I couldn't be happier for him. Tell him that I know he'll be a great father, and that I look forward to reconnecting, whenever he's ready." Her tone hardens like stone, and she's met with scribbly sounds as pen scratches paper.
Miki finishes writing, but she must think that Toph's reply isn't sufficient enough, as she pointedly prompts, "Is that all?"
Just as pointedly, "That's all."
"But, Chief-"
"I said, that's all." Toph cuts her off, sharply, "You're dismissed."
Miki pauses, obviously caught off guard by her boss's cold, detached tone, and Toph almost feels bad as her secretary gets up without another word and slumps out of the room, dejectedly. Miki is just trying to help, Toph knows that, and it's not Miki's fault that she feels this way. Heck, it's not even Sokka's.
No. It's no one's fault but her own.
She thinks back to Sokka's words on that day, right here in her office, over a year ago. He said many things, most of which she can't verbatim remember. Mostly, she remembers the crushing sensation she felt – the same she feels now – as her stone heart broke down into pebbles, refining into dust.
But one thing Sokka said does stick out – on replay in Toph's brain, like one of those overplayed songs that the radios have started to broadcast. He had told her that she fights when she's scared. But you didn't fight for us.
You fought against us.
With one last long, stoic breath, Toph gathers her belongings and gets up from her desk, leaving to go home. Her adrenaline and pride from earlier have all but withered away, and she feels the ghost of herself float through the halls and out the doors of the precinct, hauntingly.
The air has settled a few degrees in the time it took to finish her paperwork, yet it offers no comfort as Toph makes her way through the streets of the city. From the slight chill picking up in the breeze and the telltale sounds of bars and restaurants opening for the evening shift, Toph figures it must be later than she thought. The sun must be setting, a hot summer day shifting into night and offering a different kind of heat. Not the heat of the sun, but the spark of young love, the fire of a stranger's kiss, and the burning of alcohol down one's throat.
Toph feels this heat as she walks past couples and twenty-somethings on the street, carefree and vibrant as they romp off to their happy hours. It's a familiar scene, one Toph feels most days on her walk home from work, and it usually makes her content. She's always liked the city best as it bleeds into night, when it really comes alive. It reminds her of something Katara once told her – that the sense of security, whether real or not, allows people to live. And normally, Toph let's herself find comfort in the fact that she has something do with it - her personal sacrifices and long hours at the station rectified to a degree.
But at the moment, the familiar sounds and smells of a city ignited by life only highlight the empty pit in her stomach. It's the feeling that something is missing. Or perhaps, someone. It's funny, she's lived in Republic City for over half her life at this point. She knows each and every street by heart. For all intents and purposes, this is her home.
Yet, for the first time that she can ever recall, she feels completely and utterly homesick.
It's a feeling that stays with her, even as she finally gets home to her apartment, but she forces herself to shake those thoughts away. She focuses instead on bending off her metal uniform, peeling off her sweat-stained underclothes, and drawing a bath for herself.
She dips her toes in, testing the temperature before stepping in. She's usually an in-and-out kind of bather, but she decides to take her time washing her hair and scrubbing at her skin, forcing herself to relax. The water feels cool and comforting against her skin, healing her sore muscles and easing her mind. She sinks down into the tub, immersing herself under the water and letting it encompass her. She holds her breath for as long as she can, then pushes what's left out through her nose, bubbles rising to the surface until her head starts to plead for oxygen. She comes up for air, but she stays floating, abandoning her senses to the water. She's not a swimmer by any means, and she's hardly a fan of water in general - but for a moment, she imagines that her 3x5-foot bath is actually a river, wide and endless, its current drifting away her thoughts.
She's fine. Everything is fine.
Breathe. In. Out.
This is happy news! Sokka and his wife are expecting a child. He's going to be an amazing dad. The best!
Breathe.
There's no reason to be upset. Sokka is her best friend. He's starting a family. Without her.
In.
Is this how he felt when she started a family, without him?
Out. Toph needs out. Water splashes gracelessly over the sides of the tub as Toph stands up just a little too swiftly, her hair and body dripping wet. She quickly steps out of the tub, suddenly feeling she'd drown if she stayed in any longer. Truthfully, if she's going to drown, she'd much rather do it in something a bit more fun than water.
It's with that thought that she later finds herself half a bottle into her liquor cabinet, her throat hot from alcohol as she takes gracious sips from her third glass of spirits. Why not? She tells herself. Walking through the city before, surrounded by that hedonistic, carefree energy of couples and bar crawlers – well, it reminded her of a time when she used to be that way. Before everything felt so complicated. Back when she earthbended just because, or when she'd go out and eat and drink and laugh and live life to its fullest. She realizes... she misses who she used to be. So much has changed since then, and more often than not these days, she has trouble recognizing herself. Maybe that's why she's feeling so homesick?
Or, maybe not. Either way, she intends to drown out her thoughts in drink, so she won't have to question their implications for much longer anyway.
Oh, Spirits. Toph rolls her eyes at herself. When did I get so pathetic?
She used to disdain such a lily-livered mindset in people, but here she is moping around her apartment, three (make that four) glasses of booze in, giving herself a premature mid-life crisis while her friends are off taking care of their families. Or starting families, in some cases. She's too young to be so fuckin hopeless, but she's also too old to be so reckless. She's Toph Bei-Fucking-Fong, for Spirit's sake. She should be out living her life, enjoying the rare opportunity she actually has to breathe. Or, better yet, she should be spending time with her daughter.
"Fuck!" Toph sits up, her glass of liquor sloshing as she suddenly remembers, "Lin!"
The smokey smell of the fire crackling in the fireplace is a familiar one, yet it doesn't offer the same warmth that it once did. Pensively, Sokka stares at the flames as they dance, crackle, pop - casting the room and his skin with an orange glow. He sits slumped on the couch, his feet propped up on the coffee table as his mind drifts, floating away with every ember and spark. He considers having a glass of whiskey – these days it feels like the only thing that can actually warm him up – but he decides against it. Drinking only leads to overthinking or not enough thinking, and he doesn't quite feel like taking the gamble at the moment.
He sighs to himself at the thought. How is it that he manages to overthink about thinking itself? He's caught himself doing this a lot lately. Sitting. Staring. Thinking.
To be fair, he has a lot to think about, and not all of it so dreadful. Sure, there are always plagues on the back of his mind (how much he misses his family in the city, his sham of a marriage. You know, the usual). But there's also lots of life to consider, what with a baby on the way.
He thinks about the baby a lot. He thinks about if it will be a boy or girl. Who will they name it after? Will it be a waterbender? So many questions, all of which make his heart race with that strange mix of excitement and terror that one can only understand once they become a parent.
He tries to focus just on the excitement side of it, at least for now. Besides, things between him and Kahlia have been… better, lately. Not perfect, but better. After Suki's visit and after Kahlia revealed she was pregnant, things had shifted overnight. For one, Kahlia all of a sudden seemed to forgive his discretion with Toph and had actually started to act like the woman he fell in love with again. She started smiling at him again, joking with him again, just all around being civil towards him again. She didn't even get angry when Sokka mentioned that he wanted to write a letter to Toph (she wasn't thrilled per say, but she wasn't mad either, so that had to count for something, right?). Either way, she's trying to make their relationship work - and so is he - so maybe that's what counts.
On one hand, it's great. It's great not to come face to face with his guilt every day, to not feel like an intruder in his own home. It's great to have hope for the future of their child, and the fact that they might actually be able to form a healthy and happy family together.
On the other hand, it's terrible… because none of it feels real.
Every smile Kahlia offers, and every smile he gives in return - it just reminds him of what a lie their marriage has become. Kahlia has tried to swallow her contempt and become the woman Sokka had married, and in turn, Sokka has tried to do the same for her - if only for the sake of their future child. But every smile, every kiss, every laugh, and every tight-cheeked conversation feels forced. Just an act. A show in which neither of them are very good performers.
He feels it, and he knows Kahlia feels it too. Like every day they are playing a sick game of make believe – pretending they hadn't made each other miserable for the majority of their marriage. Clinging on to the pretense that if they act happy for long enough, then maybe eventually they actually will be.
But the truth of the matter is… the only common ground on which they walk anymore is the love they share for their future child.
But oh, what a love that is.
It's strange, how just a tiny little seed of life has shifted his perspective. He used to not get it… why Toph never expressed how she felt after Lin was born. He didn't really understand why she couldn't have put him first. He thought he did, but only now does he realize he had no idea what she was going through. He didn't understand what it's like to not put yourself first anymore.
And the thing is, he loves the bean living in his wife's uterus just as much as he loves Lin - or Bumi, Kya, Tenzin and Izumi for that matter. It's just, he never really had to think about what being a parent would mean. He never really had to explore that deep sense of unconditional love until he came face to face with being a father himself.
But unconditional love is something he's always had. He has it for his nieces and nephews, for his father, his sister, for Aang and for Zuko and Suki.
And for Toph.
It might not have always felt that way, since after all, he quite explicitly gave her a condition, didn't he? He expected her to love him the same way he loved her, and he expected her to do something about it. The fact that she didn't, broke his heart. But hindsight offers a bit more perspective, and he's perhaps grown enough to realize that they both held the ball in their respective courts. Sure, she shouldn't have slept with Kanto in the first place, but they both made mistakes, and they both set terms and conditions that weren't quite fair to each other.
And even through anger and heartbreak, he's loved Toph, unconditionally. As a partner, as a friend, or as family. Besides, whether he likes it or not, Kanto gave them Lin. Lin may not be his by blood, but Sokka still loves her unconditionally, like family. And in true family, blood or DNA are never conditions.
But... it's only now, as he's about to start a family with his actual blood, that he realizes he had one all along.
What he wouldn't give to have them back.
He starts to wonder if Toph got his letter yet, when behind his shoulder, he hears the sound of keys giggling in the front door. He hears it open then softly shut, then a set of light footsteps as Kahlia enters the room. Inwardly, Sokka sighs, bracing himself before turning to look over his shoulder at his wife. She's carrying a basket of produce and fresh meat from the butcher, and she has just the barest hint of a baby bump at her midriff. The orange glow from the fireplace casts a warm light on her tanned skin, and her grey eyes sparkle from the flame's reflection. She's beautiful, but the pang that hits Sokka's chest is not one of love, but regret.
He greets her with a half-smile, "Hey, honey. How was your day?"
"Um. It was okay," she meets his half-smile with one of her own, and just like his, the act doesn't quite reach her eyes, "I'm going to get started on dinner now."
She makes to head towards the kitchen, quite obviously trying to avoid his company, but Sokka stands up and starts to follow, "Well here, let me help you."
She turns towards him, hesitantly, but this time her smile is a bit more genuine, "You really don't have to, sweetie. I'm happy to cook for you."
"Nonsense," stepping forward, Sokka gently takes the basket from his wife's hands, "You're doing all the hard work by carrying our child. The least I can do is help with dinner."
"Um," her smile fades into something unreadable, "Okay. Thanks. Why don't I chop up the prunes and you can work on prepping the hen?"
He offers a quick peck on the lips, "Deal."
She blinks for moment, as if surprised by the kiss, but then turns to lead them both into the kitchen without another word. Sokka was trying to warm up the atmosphere a little, but his attempt seems to fall flat. It's with stiff movements that they take out pots and pans, cutting boards and knives and start to prepare their dinner, flavoring the room with rigidity and awkwardness. These moments of taut silence are not unusual between them, but the more they happen, the more uncomfortable they feel. While Kahlia's belly grows each day – reminding them of the future they are forced to share - the obligatory small talk and pretense of domestic bliss grow all the more unbearable. But for their child, Sokka is willing to endure it.
He preps the arctic hen, then pops it on the stove, the oils in the pan searing and bubbling as the chicken fries. He uses a wooden spoon to stir the sauce as he peppers in spices, and the smell of the meat cooking makes his stomach churn with excitement. His stomach churns a lot these days, but usually not from hunger, so it's a welcome reprieve. However, the relief doesn't last for long. Behind him, Kahlia works on prepping the sea prunes, each cut accompanied by a harsh chopping sound as her knife meets the cutting board. Ironically, the sounds do nothing to cut the tension. Sokka tries to focus on the chicken (and not how terse and awkward this feels), and it's not long before he hears Kahlia place the knife down, presumably done with her chopping. There's nothing but silence behind him for a moment, and he's about to try an attempt at small talk when…
"Sokka," Kahlia takes a deep breath behind him. Unceremoniously, Sokka turns from the stove to look at her, but her eyes are closed, and he's surprised by compunctious look on her face, "I can't do this anymore."
"What? Sea Prunes?" Sokka tries for a joke, his spoon waved haphazardly in the air.
"No," she shakes her head, then gestures around to everything and nothing all at once, "This, Sokka. Us."
Sokka blinks, unsure if he heard her correctly. Dumbly, he repeats, "Us?"
"I…I slept with Yutu."
And just like that, their act has ended.
It takes a second for Sokka to understand what she's saying, and almost like she said nothing at all, he turns back to the stove and resumes stirring the sauces in the pan. He grips the edge of the countertop with the hand not gripping his spoon, as he waits for his heart to break. But it doesn't break so much as harden, as if guarding itself in metal armor.
"Oh." He blinks, emotionless.
"I'm sorry, Sokka," she comes up behind him, her hand on his back, "Truly I am."
"Oh." Sokka says again, this time while nodding. Casually, he flips the hen over in the pan, a fresh wave of sizzling sounds filling the room, "Okay."
After a moment, "That's it?" Kahlia says, taking her hand off his back, and Sokka can hear her incredulous expression, "Is that all you have to say?"
What does she want him to say? What is there to say?
Finally, he turns to face her, and he says the first thing that comes to mind, "Okay. What about our baby?" he gestures back and forth between them with his spoon, "How's this going to work? Are you and Yutu like, a thing now? Cause then we have to talk about custody, and I'm-"
"No, Sokka," she interrupts, her chest deflating as she takes a step away from him, cautiously, "You don't get it."
"What? What don't I get? The fact that you cheated on me?" Sokka shrugs, indifferently, though his voice starts to escalate, "Fine, whatever. I deserved it, I guess. But you are not taking away my child fr-"
"You're not the father, Sokka!"
"Wha…" The spoon drops from his grip and clatters to the ground, sauce splashing onto his shoes as the bounce echoes, "What?"
"Sokka, I am so sorry." Kahlia sighs, "The baby… it's not yours. It's Yutu's."
"How…" He pieces the words together slowly, as he tries to remember how to speak, "How can you be so sure?"
"I…I wasn't sure," she admits, keeping her distance, "I suspected, but I wasn't sure until today."
"Wait, wait, wait…" Sokka shakes his head, as it dawns on him, "If you think Yutu is the father, that means… You slept with him months ago, and you're only telling me now?"
"Yes, Sokka. Look, I know how terrible it sounds, okay? I wanted to tell you sooner, but then I got pregnant and I really did think it was yours. I wanted us to work out, for our child." Kahlia pauses, then has the nerve to smile at him, fondly, "I know we've had our ups and downs, but I always thought you'd be a great father."
"I will be a great father." He retorts, stubbornly.
Kahlia looks down at her feet with, a sympathetic look on her face, "But you're not the father, Sokka."
"I… I don't believe you." Sokka finds himself leaning against the countertop, in need of physical support, "No. It's my kid."
"Sokka," Kahlia reasons, a pleading tone, "I took a paternity test today at the clinic, just to be sure. It's his."
Sokka shakes his head again, ignoring what she's telling him, "So how long was it going on for, huh? How long were you sleeping with him? Are you still sleeping with him?"
She doesn't answer him, but the look on her face tells him all he needs to know.
"I don't believe this," Sokka scoffs, sardonically. His hands fly up to the sides of his head, his heart thumping in his ears, "For months, you made me feel so fucking guilty for just kissing Toph. You held it over my head, when all this time you were off fucking Yutu."
"It wasn't like that, Sokka!" Kahlia bursts, and if Sokka weren't so outraged himself, he'd see the genuine look of regret on her face, "Sokka, I didn't mean for it to turn into this. I turned to Kutu because I was hurt and he offered me comfort when I needed it most, but I didn't know it would turn into what it is."
Sokka can't help but sneer, "And what is 'it', huh?"
She fixes him with another apologetic look, "Look, after you kissed Toph, I was so… so hurt. Months went by after you told me, and I wanted to forgive you and move on, but I just couldn't, no matter how hard I tried. I turned to Yutu because yes, I wanted you to hurt too," she braces herself with another sigh, "But I want you to know, I never intended to hurt you like this."
Sokka nods, but his face remains one of contempt. Behind him, the hen burns on the stove and the room starts to fill with smoke, but Sokka can't bring himself to care. The realization that his wife has been cheating on him is a weird one. His heart stays hardened and cold like steel, but it doesn't shatter. At least, not for his wife. That other thing… about his baby (or not his baby, apparently) is just too much to grasp right now, so he doesn't.
Oddly enough, his mind drifts to thoughts of Toph… or more accurately, Toph and Kanto. He remembers that day, walking into her office to find her in the arms of another man. He remembers how, instantly, his heart shattered at the sight. Betrayal. Anger. Heartbreak. Those are all the feelings he had at the time, and those are all the feelings he should be feeling now, right? But it's not what he feels. Instead, his heart thumps against the metal armor it's built up, beating only with regret and longing.
How different their lives would be if they had just been honest with each other from the beginning… or even honest with themselves.
Sokka brings himself back the present, and how he should feel, "I still can't believe you've been gaslighting me this whole fucking time. You made me think I was so terrible for what I did with Toph, when all this time you were doing the same thing. No, not even the same thing. It was worse!"
Kahlia nods, accepting his anger in strides. She bites her lips, skeptically, but calm, "Is it really that different?"
Sokka's pauses, stunned and incredulous, "Yes, of course it's worse! Toph and I may have kissed, but we pulled away and I told you right after it happened! Two things which you obviously failed to do."
"You know what," Kahlia's retorts, now on the defense, "Fine, you're right. It is different. I turned to Yutu because I was hurt and angry, but I didn't have feelings for him at the time. You turned to Toph because you loved her. Tell me how that's not worse."
The words sting, and Sokka jerks back, as if he's been slapped. It's not like she's wrong. Yes, sleeping with someone else might look worse than just kissing someone, but it doesn't matter. Kahlia intended to hurt him, but Sokka knows she's not a malicious person at heart. She at least was thinking of Sokka when she made her discretion. Sokka, on the other hand, disregarded thoughts of Kahlia as soon as his lips had found Toph's. Kahlia's intent has purpose, while Sokka just couldn't fucking help himself. At the end of the day, it's the intent that matters, and their intentions may have been different, but they both lead to the same outcome - which, ultimately, is a marriage that's broken beyond repair.
He watches as Kahlia's chest heaves and tears well at her eyes, and for the first time, Sokka understands how truly sorry she is. She is his wife after all, and there was a time when they understood and loved each other. Part of that may be gone, but Sokka knows neither one of them intended for their marriage to end up like this. Kahlia is a good woman who did a bad thing. She's a good a woman, just not a good woman for him. No woman but one is, and it's not the one in front of him. They've both caused each other so much grief, and for what?
"Sokka, I can't tell you how sorry I am." Kahlia continues. She must share the same line of thinking, as her anger deflates into sadness, "All I ever wanted to do was help and heal people. But all we ever seem to do is hurt each other."
"You're right," Sokka calms down, but only now does he realize the desperate wet marks rolling down his cheeks, "But what about the baby? You can't take that away from me."
"Do you hear yourself, Sokka?" Kahlia shakes her head, regretfully, "I just told you that I'm pregnant with another man's baby."
Yes, he hears himself. He hears how crazy he sounds. It's not his baby. It's not the woman who he loves or the life he thought he wanted… so why does he still want it so bad? Why does he want to watch it grow up? Why does he want to take it ice-dodging and teach it how to use a boomerang. He wants it to know its cousins. He wants it to meet Lin, who he hopes would be more like a sister. That's just how unconditional love works … not even his child, yet his capacity to love it remains.
"Look, I can't tell you how sorry I am." Kahlia repeats as she moves towards him. She braves a hand on his shoulder, an earnest expression, "I'll never forgive myself for taking this away from you. Truly, I wish we both could have done things differently. But I also know that we both deserve better."
"Yeah," Sokka finds himself nodding, though his eyes are unfocused, "We do."
A moment passes, and something about it feels final and resolute. Whatever just happened cannot be taken back. He and Kahlia lock eyes for a moment, and for the first time in a long time, he feels like they're finally being real with each other. The curtains closing on their final act. Kahlia's eyes are as wet as his, and when her hand falls off his shoulder, Sokka has the distinct realization that it's probably the last time they'll ever touch.
"I…" Kahlia sniffs, but keeps her composure, "I can be out of here by tomorrow."
It takes Sokka another second to realize she's referring to their house. He hadn't been quite there yet with the logistics, and he finds himself shaking his head once more, "No." he denies, softly, "No. You and Yutu keep it. It will be a good place to raise the baby."
"What?" she looks surprised, yet Sokka picks up on her relief, "But… what are you going to do?"
It's a question he hasn't let himself think about until right this moment, and he takes another minute to look around at their house, thinking as he always does. He looks at the pelts lining the walls. At the photos that have never included him. At the artic hen burning on the stove. At the splatter of sauce on his shoe. At his wife. At her belly, of which inside is a life that has never, and will never belong to him.
His heart, hardened like steel, finally breaks. Yet strangely enough, he finds himself smiling, tearful and twisted, "I'm going home."
Shit. Shit. Shit. What kind of mother is she? All this talk of wanting to spend time with her daughter and here she is, mind glazed over by liquor and her daughter completely forgotten! She had been so distracted by her feelings (and too busy throwing herself a pity party, if she's being honest) that she lost track of time.
The ferry ride over to Air Temple Island is always unpleasant for Toph (hello, motion sickness), but it's made that much worse now. It's one of the rare moments she actually wishes she could see, if only to know how far away the island's shore is, so she'll know how much longer she'll have to endure this hell-ride. But her concept of time and space is a bit fuzzy at the moment anyway. She can feel herself swaying as she grips the side of the boat, but it has nothing to do with the motion of the waves. She hasn't had this much to drink in a long time – probably since before Lin was born – and she's loath to discover that the effects of alcohol hit a bit differently now than when she was a fresh-faced, twenty-something. Water and wind spray at her face, yet it's not enough to keep her eyes from drooping as intoxication tugs on them, and she fights to keep them from shutting entirely.
It's late enough that she's one of only a few passengers on the ferry, and she's grateful that there aren't many people around to see her fumble off the boat once it finally docks. She somehow makes her way up the island and towards Aang and Katara's house, though her 'vision' is fuzzy, and her steps swerve as she approaches her friends' front door. She sways in place for a moment, using the wall of the house to steady herself. She moves her hand up to knock, but she teteers back and ends up missing the door, punching the air instead. She sighs, frustrated with herself, before lifting her hand again for another attempt. She manages a knock, though it's sloppy and with more force then she intends, and the distant, sober part of her brain prays that she didn't just wake anyone up.
She waits, the liquor in her system wearing her patience thin, and she almost drifts into sleep where she stands. Thankfully, she's woken out of her stupor by the abrupt sound of the door opening. Toph tries to figure out who opened it, but her senses are so fuzzy at the moment, she can't even make out who's right in front of her until they speak.
"Toph?" Katara's voice greets her, and just by its tone, Toph knows she's in trouble.
"Sweetcheeks, hey!" Toph greets, a little too brightly for this hour. It's the first she's spoken since leaving her house and even she notices how slurred it sounds. She clears her throat, trying to compose herself, "Sorry I'm late. Where's Lin?"
"Hmm, I was beginning to wonder if you'd show up tonight," Katara says, pointedly, "Lin is asleep."
"Well I'm here now." Toph rebuts, harshly. She teeters in place, and finds herself leaning against the doorframe for support, "Go wake her up."
"Toph, are you…" There's a pause on the other side of the door, and then Katara's masterfully skeptical tone, "Are you drunk?"
"What, no of course not." On cue, Toph hiccups, "I just had a couple – hic! – a couple glasses."
Her tones seeps with judgement, "A 'couple' of glasses?"
"Fuck off, Katara, I'm not an alcoholic, okay?" Toph does her best to glare in Katara's direction, "I just needed to blow off some steam."
"Okay, well if you're going to insist on 'blowing of some steam' like this, maybe Lin should stay the night."
"No." Toph tries to enunciate her words, but to no avail, "She should come home with me. I'm her mother, Katara, not you."
"Toph, Lin is only 5 years old." Katara steps out of the front door, closing it behind her to give them privacy. With a pang of shame, Toph realizes she's trying to prevent the kids from hearing her. She protecting them... from her, "Do you really think it's a good idea to be drinking around her?
"Hey, don't you tell me how to raise my kid!" Toph sneers. She points her finger to wear she thinks Katara is, "You think it's easy being a single mom and working 80 hours a week to protect the world's most dangerous city?"
"Toph, I know how stressful being a mother is, and I know it must not be easy for you right now, but-"
"But nothing! Stop patronizing me, Sugar Queen. What do you know about my stress, huh? You think your life is so tough?" Toph puts her hands up, mockingly, "Ooh, poor Katara, living in a mansion, married to the Avatar, full time mom with a bunch of Air Acolytes to babysit. Wah wah, so sad."
"Toph, that's not fair. I may not be a single mom, but my life isn't perfect." Katara bites back, no mercy in her tone, "Do you think I liked having the pressure of having to repopulate the Airbenders? You think I like that Aang clearly favors Tenzin over our other kids? Do you think I like having to stay home and play 'dutiful housewife' while Aang travels the world for 'Avatar' business? Huh? You think my life is easy? You wouldn't last a day in my world, Toph, so don't pretend you're the only one with struggles."
Toph blinks, stunned, "Kat-hic!-ara, I-"
"No, Toph." She cuts her off, no sympathy, "Look, I'm sorry that you feel like life sucks right now. But I've never known you to play the victim, and I got to say, I'm not sure I like this version of you very much."
"Pfft," That makes two of us, "Whatever."
"Go work out your shit, Toph. Blow off some steam if that's what you need." Katara opens the door and backs herself inside, but she blocks Toph from entering, "I think it's best if Lin stays here for a few days. And when you come pick her up, I expect you to be sober."
Without another word, Katara shuts the door, and Toph's heart clenches as she hears the audible twist of a lock. She stands (sways) in place for a moment, her sober pain battling with her intoxicated lack of inhibitions. She huffs out a shaky breath before turning to stomp (stumble) her way back to the ferry. She longs for her daughter, but deep down, she knows Katara did the right thing. She'll remember to apologize/thank her later, but right now, she's still pretty peeved. Of course, she's more angry at herself than Katara, but it's easier to direct her anger at someone else, instead of having to acknowledge the truth. I'm a bad mother.
When the ferry docks back in the city, still drunk and feeling sorry for herself, Toph decides to indulge in her grief and hit up a tavern. It should come as no surprise that she ends up at the same seedy dive bar that she and Sokka used to go to, years ago. She had stopped going right after Lin was born and when Sokka started dating Kahlia. She had told herself it was because she had her own priorities, what with a newborn and all. But in truth, it didn't feel right coming here without Sokka, and she hasn't come back once in all these years. She's not sure what's compelled her to come back now, but she's greeted with the same stench of stale beer and sweaty armpits that she remembers from years ago, and it feels like coming home.
The stench and sounds of the familiar bar, too loud and too crowded, wrap around her like a warm, comforting blanket. She finds herself seated at the bar, strangers bumping into her every now and again, but she hardly pays attention, as her mind drifts elsewhere. She closes her eyes - a pointless gesture - and she lets herself remember a time, when words were whispered in her ear, warm and seductive. She remembers when laughs filled her chest, bubbling up like fizzy ale. She remembers the feel of his hands, warm on her thighs as they promised to move higher.
She slams her empty glass on the bartop, and her head spins a little from the motion. She senses the bartender grab for her glass to refill it, but thankfully, Toph has enough sense to cut herself off. How many drinks has she had at this point? Seven? Eight? Enough anyway to make her sway in her chair and blink tiredly, but also enough to feel completely senseless for a moment, her mind dizzy against the backdrop of loud music and hectic, drunken conversations. Strangely enough, it makes her feel calm.
That is, until she feels a figure standing at her side at the bar. A man. He'd actually been standing there for a while, but only now does Toph realize his attention is on her. Only now does she notice how close he is, how his chest is turned toward her, and how fit he must be. Toph sniffs, and she picks up on the scent of sea salt and musk. Clean and masculine, and so so familiar.
Toph turns her head in the direction of the man, and too drunk to think of its rudeness, she raises her hand up to touch his chest. It's warm, and the heartbeat it hides is steady and strong, assured and confident. So familiar. The fabric of his tunic is soft to the touch, and if Toph knew what color looked like, she'd imagine it to be blue. She feels the man's breath on her face, and she hears that small little wet sound that comes when a person smiles. She opens her mouth, confused and hopeful, "Sokka?"
"What?" the voice of a stranger meets her ears, and it sounds nowhere near as silky as she imagined, "No, I'm not Sokka. I'm-"
"I don't care." Toph slurs, her disappointment stronger than she'd like to admit. Now she's wishing she'd gone for that refill.
She expects the strange man to walk away, but he only leans in closer, "Sheesh, you're not very nice, are you, lady?"
"No," she agrees, curtly, "I'm not."
Again, she expects that to deter the man, but he surprises her further by placing a hand on her thigh, "Eh, that's okay. Only suckers are nice."
Under normal circumstances, she would never tolerate a stranger's grimy hands on her. But… his hand doesn't feel grimy. It feels warm and familiar, just like the rest of him, and the jolt of arousal that shoots down her gut distracts her intent to tell him to fuck off.
Toph bites her lips, then dares, "So are you a sucker then?"
His voice is low and inviting, "Definitely not."
The man's hand skirt's up her thigh - just like she'd imagined - his fingers feather light as they somehow tickle their way up to her waist. His thumb rests a few inches below her breast, teasing. She sways in her barstool a little - a rush of liquor-induced vertigo - but the man's other hand moves up to steady her.
Spirits, when was the last time she was touched by a man? When was last time anyone has touched her skin with the intent of pleasure and not pain or procedure? Not as long ago as the last time she'd been this drunk, but long enough ago that she can't quite remember.
The stranger - warm and steady - brushes a hair back from her face, "So why are you sitting her by yourself?"
"Why do you care?"
He shrugs, "I guess I don't."
"Good." She finds her own hand moving back to his chest, then trailing down to his bicep. It's as strong as she would have pictured, "Who are you?"
She feels his muscles flex underneath her touch. Then, teasingly, "I thought you didn't want to know my na-"
"I don't." She cuts him off, shaking her head, "I meant, what are you doing here?"
If he finds her line of questioning strange, he doesn't seem to mind, "I'm visiting from the Northern Water Tribe," she senses another shrug, "Guess you could call me a tourist."
Ah. So that's why he feels so familiar. Water Tribe. Toph feels a pang of something that she can't quite place hit her chest. Everything about him reminds her of Sokka. He's warm, strong and steady, and he smells like a classic Water Tribe Man. Clean and Seductive. But at the same time, he's nothing like Sokka. The authenticity, the affection and humour, the sense of unconditional support and friendship that Sokka offers, is nowhere to be found in this man. And why should it be, in a stranger?
"What about you?" he asks, an obligatory tone.
Toph quirks a brow, and surprises herself, as she says, "I'm here for the same thing that you're really here for."
"Oh yeah?" He questions, his hands falling to her hips, "And what's that?"
She doesn't answer him, not with words anyway. Instead, she floats her hand up to his jaw and pulls him down, her lips meeting his in a drunk, slightly off-center kiss. It's a bit too sloppy for her tastes, and a lot more wet than she's used to. Perhaps if she wasn't so drunk, she'd remember to be mortified - she's sure no one wants to see her and this stranger trade spit, and normally she'd be embarrassed to kiss anyone like this, especially in public. Thankfully, this kind of behaviour is not unusual for a place like this, so no one pays them any mind. Besides, it may be sloppy, but it's also heated and entirely arousing. The stranger seems happy to reciprocate her advances, as he angles his head to take control of the kiss. He's somehow worked his way between her thighs, and he takes advantage by pulling her closer to his chest, her butt hanging off the edge of the barstool. Her mind stays dizzy as she tastes the beer in the stranger's breath, and his tongue moves against hers in a way that makes her feel satisfied and empty all at once.
Soon enough, they break away from their drunken spell, and the man lays his forehead against hers in an uncomfortably intimate gesture, as if one kiss seals the deal, "Hey, I have a hotel room a few blocks from here. You want to get out of here?"
"No."
"Oh," The man breaks away, disappointed, "Okay then."
"There's a storage closet in the back." Toph grabs his hand, then bounces off her stool, "Let's go there."
"Damn, you got it, Chief."
Chief... It's a stranger that offers himself, but she pretends it's someone else. She pretends its him, whispering it in her ear like he used to. She pretends it him, chasing an old memory into the supply closet, mops and buckets rattled to the ground by the dance of lust. Lips trail up her neck, wet and hot, sloppy and without his normal skill. Hands clutch at her waist, and skin meets skin, over and over as she chases her past. That sweet, salty scent fills her nose, and shamefully, she pretends that's him too.
AN
I don't have anything to say except ️¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ️. Also, I think I have carpal tunnel now, so if this brought you pain, know that it quite literally brought me pain too.
BTW if any of ya'll think it's gross for a strange man to be all touchy feely without Toph's permission at first in that bar… well, A) You're right… and B) Tell that to the guys at bars and clubs I've been too. 😒 I know the lines of consent here are kind of hazy, but unfortunately, such is life. Not to say Toph got taken advantage of, because I feel like it was definitely a mutual thing, but remember kids - for future reference - drunk consent is not legal consent.
Also, poor Sokka. Did I say that I wasn't going to make cheating a recurring theme? Oops, I guess I meant between Toph and Sokka. That was the hardest part of this chapter to write, so I'm sorry if it came across a bit rushed? I know a lot of you predicted this outcome, so it probably wasn't too surprising 😅. I wanted his relationship with Kahlia to end a lot less smoothly than his relationship with Suki or his other flings, but I also didn't want to paint such a black and white image of right and wrong.
Also, I know I mentioned the term 'equalized' in reference to the anti-benders, and I know that was more an Amon thing. But I think that mindset would have existed in the Avatar world for a long time leading up to Amon, even after what we saw in the "Imbalance" comics.
Also, yes, I decided paternity tests exists in the Avatar universe.
Okay so apparently I had a lot to say lol. Thanks so much for reading and thanks for your comments on previous chapters! I appreciate all of you SO much! 🙏 Special shout out to my friends on the Discord for all your writing input and advice!