From the moment he joined the company, Zuko had been nothing but a tall, gloomy nuisance, always looking down on people and acting like he was the smartest person in the room. Every single aspect of his being radiated contempt, from how his eyes narrowed whenever they bumped into each other in and out of meetings to how he wrote his tediously verbose emails. Oh, those damn emails...
The first time she sent him a proposal draft, he nitpicked every single line she had written, highlighting passages he wanted changed and writing comments in red as if he was a middle school teacher grading her homework. In response, she thanked him for the elucidating feedback and, to return the favor, signed him up for the 'appropriate tone in the workplace' conference HR was promoting. She had an inkling that he had never attended it though, seeing as there was no improvement in his communication skills whatsoever.
"Zuko's actually a pretty okay guy," Sokka said one time when she made the mistake of venting to her brother about their new coworker.
I doubt that, she thought, and she wasn't sure if she had mouthed it out loud, or her disdain was simply that evident in her face, but whatever the case, it made Sokka scowl at her reprimandingly.
"Think of him like a clam: hard calcified shell on the outside, but a goopy mess on the inside."
"Your analogy is not making me dislike him any less."
"You may surprise yourself if you just give him a chance."
Sokka then gave her a look that told her he would not be accepting any other course of action from her, so, against all her instincts, she decided to give him a chance. And... her brother was right.
On occasion, Katara would glimpse other sides of his personality, and it irked her to admit it, but Zuko wasn't an insufferable prick all the time. She had caught him refilling the empty coffee pot when most people would covertly wait for someone else to do the job. Coming back from lunch one day, she saw him playing with Appa when he thought no one was looking. He was always lending Sokka pens, even though her brother had a bad habit of chewing them when he immersed himself in brainstorming. Zuko was more than an okay guy... but oddly, it felt like he was trying to hide his good traits from everyone else.
Why he thought that acting like an egocentric know-it-all was a better option than to let people see how thoughtful he could be intrigued her. So on a random night of working overtime, she stopped by his desk on her way out, and with all good intentions and friendly smiles, offered him an olive branch. But Zuko just blinked at her in utter startlement, as if instead of a drink, she had offered to saw him in half.
"Come on, Zuko, it's just one beer," she pressed on, still not understanding what he was so hesitant about.
He rubbed the back of his neck, sheepish. "You seem like a nice person, Katara, but I think it's best if we keep things professional between us—"
Katara's brain shut down. She completely forgot who she was as he continued to stutter words that felt foreign to her. Whatever lame excuse he had come up with flew right over her head as comprehension bulldozed her and made her see red.
"YOU THINK I'M ASKING YOU OUT?"
Zuko frowned. "... Aren't you?"
"Not like that!" She threw her arms in the air with a huff. Stomping her foot, she pointed at him with all the disdain she could muster. "I was trying to be nice, you idiot! I should've known you'd be such a self-absorbed jerk!"
He abruptly stood up as well, taking two steps in her direction and grabbing her by the wrist. His eyes narrowed dangerously as he hissed through gritted teeth, "Then maybe don't send so many mixed signals next time!"
MIXED SIGNALS? WHAT MIXED SIGNALS? she wanted to scream, but she feared unleashing her anger would only lead to him stabbed with a pencil right on the neck. Instead of attempting murder, she flicked his hand off her and crossed her arms over her chest haughtily.
"There will be no next time," she sneered. "From now on, we won't talk to each other anymore, unless it's strictly necessary for work."
Zuko rolled his eyes. "Fine by me."
"Great." Katara's nails dug into her arms to stop herself from punching the smugness right off his stupid face. Still seething, she spun on her heels to get out of there before she completely lost it.
"And have fun locking the entire office on your own!"
The desk is too small. She's going to have a little chat with Aang one of these days to ask for properly sized new desks. Because there is no way in hell she can focus on getting any work done when Zuko is sitting so close to her his knee grazes her leg whenever he shifts on his chair. She can smell his cologne, and it's an alluring spicy mixture that makes her feel warm and brings up hazy memories of his arms enveloping her that she can't really tell are real or not.
"Are you listening to me, Katara?"
She's not, but admitting that is completely out of the question. Instead, she shrugs proudly and says, "I don't see what the problem is."
Zuko leans forth on his elbows and rubs his eyes frustrated. "When Ty Lee said she was down with changes," he mumbles, "she probably meant something like painting the walls pink, not turning the place into Wan Shi Tong's goddamn library."
Kataras sighs, shifting through her scribbled pages with nonchalance. "This is still the brainstorming phase. We can narrow down whatever ideas we come up with later."
"We can, huh?"
Katara glances at him, finding him glaring at his mug as if trying to heat it with his mind. Arching an eyebrow, she asks, "Anything you wanna share with the class?"
"Weren't you gonna dump me after doing your evaluation?"
Her pen stops abruptly. Taking a deep breath in, she puts on an indifferent façade and laughs, flipping her hair over her shoulder and propping her chin on her knuckles. "How could I do that after hearing Ty Lee talk about grandparents?"
Zuko nods, but his face gives away his confusion, so she adds, "The bookshop being a gift to his wife? It's romantic."
"Doesn't matter how great of a romantic gesture it is when the business is not bringing in any profit," he counters matter-of-factly, making her click her tongue with contempt.
"Right, I forgot you were dead inside," she grumbles, and she's sure she hears Toph snickering from the nearby desk.
"I'm being realistic."
"That's fine, Zuko," Katara says, patronizing.
Affronted, he drains his mug's contents in large gulps and, a little short of breath, announces, "I'm gonna go grab more coffee."
"Well, don't let me stop you," Katara says, waving absentmindedly with her free hand. "Do you have any post-its?"
"Yeah, in the drawer," he mumbles as he leaves for the lounge area.
She opens the first drawer, and its immaculately organized interior makes her roll her eyes. She looks through Zuko's stuff for the post-its, but when she reaches the bottom drawer, she freezes. Inside a plastic container, there are shards of porcelain, and she picks one up for further inspection. It's a mug handle in a shade of green she recognizes too well... For some reason, Zuko has kept the pieces of her favorite mug—the mug she broke when she bumped into him the other day.
"What do you think you're doing?" an icy cold voice asks from behind her, making her jump.
Katara quickly drops the piece of porcelain and shuts the drawer close as if it can somehow mask the fact that she has been busted snooping. Then, she realizes that he's the creepy one collecting trophies like a serial killer, and she snaps, "Is that my mug?"
"It's not," he says unconvincingly.
"You break my favorite mug," Katara continues, poking him in the chest with the butt of her pen, "then keep it as a memento… because you hate me that much?"
"N-no!" His tone is appalled, and he runs a hand down his face in frustration. "I thought—I thought I could fix it."
Through his fingers, he chances a glance in her direction, and he looks so mortified that Katara doesn't have it in her to continue being mad at him. Her shoulders droop, and her frown softens.
"Why?" she asks, more curious than accusing.
Palm sliding from his eyes to his mouth, he mumbles sheepishly, "I like puzzles?"
Katara blinks slowly, then she bites the inside of her cheeks to hold back a laugh. When she's sure her voice will come out without shaking, she says, "... And you couldn't buy one from a toy store like a normal person?"
There's a problem with an e-commerce they were working with—the website inexplicably crashed, and the clock starts ticking for them to get everything back on track before the new jewelry collection's launch. The third-party that has coded the site has already been contacted, but someone still has to stick around to be the bridge between the programmers and the client, and since everybody else has already gone home, Zuko offers to stay… Even though the internet is not his field of expertise, and he much rather go back home and eat his own weight in takeout pad thai instead.
He's supposed to keep up with updates from the JavaScript front (apparently there has been a traffic increase that may or may not be related to their problem), and maybe draft some statements about the downtime just in case, but there's really not much to do other than wait. Which is partially why he's so surprised when Katara strides back into the office, heels clicking on the marble floor and tousled hair flying everywhere.
"Jiang called me," she says, brandishing her phone in one hand at the same time as she wiggles out of her coat. "She's worried about the launch."
"Well, tell her that there are people working on it." Zuko turns to his computer screen, shifting between tabs to look busy while she's still there.
"I did." Katara starts rolling a chair to his desk, and he gasps.
"W-what are you doing?"
The woman rolls her eyes. "Relax, I'll put it back later. Toph will never know I took her chair."
"That's not what I meant." He shakes his head, getting flustered. "There's nothing else to do. You can go home."
His tone grows more persistent but does nothing to convince her. Like the stubborn woman that she is, Katara snorts, throwing her head back. "And risk causing a whole lot of miscommunication drama because you suck at talking to people?" She laughs. "If anything, you should be the one going home, Zuko."
"You know, for someone who's supposedly a people person, you sure can be rude when you want to."
She shrugs. "Like they say, better a bitter truth than a sweet lie."
Unable to refute her statement, he rubs his temples to center himself. "There's really nothing else to do here," he reinforces as if she needs the reminder.
She opens her bag and sifts through its content nonchalantly. "I had to work on updating some documents anyway."
"Suit yourself," he says in defeat and smashes the keys on his keyboard to access his email when his stomach growls. Audibly.
"Hungry?" Katara asks, chuckling.
"I'm fine."
"Zuko. We don't know how long we're gonna be here for."
"So?" he snarls stubbornly.
"So maybe you should consider eating something, dummy."
.
When he comes back with their dinner, she's nowhere to be found. He checks the kitchen and her desk to no avail, and the pizza definitely starts getting cold before he notices the balcony door slightly open.
He pokes his head outside to call her, but her name dies on his lips as he glances at her.
She's standing with her forearms against the railing, seemingly unaware of his presence. Her eyes are closed, her head is inclined and there's a serene expression on her face as the night breeze gently picks her hair in waves and makes the locks dance gently in the air. Moonlight glows on her skin, and just looking at her like that is making him dizzy.
Zuko clears his throat, trying to pull them both back to reality, but then her eyes are on his, and they are too blue and too shiny even in the dark, making it a little too hard to think. She tilts her head to the side, questioningly, and he points at the sky and blurts, "No wonder it's so bright tonight."
Katara flashes him a cheeky smile before pushing herself off the railing and walking in his direction. "Yeah. The full moon will do that—"
She's interrupted when Zuko's phone starts to ring.
"Here, take this," he says, giving her the pizza box as he checks the caller ID. His eyebrows immediately furrow in concern. Holding his phone to his ear, he answers, "Azula? What's wrong?"
"Why do you think I only call when something's wrong, brother?" Azula's voice is exaggeratedly pained to sound sincere, but the fact that she's acting like her normal self somewhat relieves him. "You wound me."
"Then what do you want?" From the corner of his eyes, he sees Katara settling on the couch, kicking her heels off, and sitting with her feet under her.
"Again with the rude assumptions. I'll have you know, your dear sister has gone through the trouble of bringing a care package from Uncle to your lame-ass apartment, and you're not even here to appreciate my good deed. My arms are sore, and I'm tired of standing—great time to change your locks, by the way. "
"Couldn't pick my new lock now, could you?" Zuko teases with a smirk.
"Actually, I could, but I'd rather not risk having one of your nosy neighbors calling the cops on me." There's some rustling on the other side of the line and his sister huffs. "Seriously, Zuko. Where are you?"
"I'm still working."
"Ugh. When are you going to stop being so pathetic?" Azula sighs dramatically. "Whatever happened to your girlfriend?"
He snorts so loud it makes Katara turn to stare at him with curiosity. Zuko waves it off casually, but he can feel the blush reaching his cheeks. He turns around to face the wall. "Just leave the box with Zhao, will you?"
"You're delusional if you think I'm getting anywhere near your creepy neighbor," Azula says dryly.
Zuko pinches the bridge of his nose as he tries to come up with another solution. There's only one option left, and he hates himself for asking what he asks next, "Would you come to my workplace then?" There is no answer for a moment, so he grudgingly adds, "... I'll pay for your cab."
"In that case, see you soon, Zuzu!"
Zuko's sister is one of the most astounding people she's met in her life. The woman is breathtaking—sharp features, style, poise… Azula could easily become a model if she wanted. And she has a big personality on top of that! Azula's barely arrived in the office and Katara can't decide if she's a fan of the other woman's silver tongue, or if she's terrified of it. Maybe both.
The two of them bond over Zuko's social awkwardness—a trait that according to Azula has been her brother's companion from the womb ("How would you know that? You weren't even born!"), and the festival of embarrassing anecdotes makes him use a checkup on the website's debugging progress as an excuse to go hide at his desk. They are almost done with the pizza, and Zuko has yet to show his face again.
Katara watches as a deeply-scowling Azula meticulously picks the pineapple from her slice and tosses them back inside the box. It should be an intimidating sight, but Azula also keeps clicking her tongue and glaring at the fruit triangles like they offended her personally, and it just makes Katara chuckle quietly as she munches on her own dinner.
Azula gags. "You have the unrefined taste of a peasant."
Katara shrugs, taking a moment to lick her fingers to irate the other woman even more. "I like sweet and savory combinations."
"You're that kind of girl," Azula mocks, rolling her eyes.
"What do you mean?"
"The kind of girl who thinks the world is made of clashing forces that balance each other out. Sweet and savory. Fire and Water. Yin and Yang."
"When you put it that way…" Katara mumbles, looking down at her lap as she gives Azula's words some deeper consideration.
"You also believe that opposites attract."
"I guess?"
"Which is why you're attracted to my brother," Azula deadpans.
"What—you—I'm not—" Katara's arms fly everywhere, face contorting into a thousand different emotions in a second. "There are so many things wrong with that statement—"
"I have no interest in your denials." Azula rests her free arm on the backrest and crosses her legs languidly. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, she asks, "Did you know that pineapples are aphrodisiacs?"
Katara feels herself flushing terribly, especially when taking into account how their conversation has gotten there. "Can't say that I did…"
"Well, now you do," Azula states in that same know-it-all manner that Katara starts to believe is genetic. Just like with the brother, it makes Katara want to slap the other girl right across the face. "You're welcome."
At that moment, Zuko decides to rejoin them, marching excitedly towards them. "Great news—" He stops in his tracks as he glances from one woman to the other, and the crease between his eyebrows slowly deepen. "What's going on here?"
"You're very welcome as well, brother," Azula says, fluttering her eyelashes sweetly, and Katara has to bite her lower lip hard not to let the panicked screech come out of her mouth.
"Uh… thanks?" Zuko shakes his head to reorganize his thoughts. "Anyway, the website is back online."
Katara lets out the breath that has been trapped in her throat since Zuko came into view. Relief washes over her, but she can't help but feel some bittersweetness at the news as well, and it confuses her as to why.
"Does that mean we can get out of here?" Azula asks.
Zuko's eyes momentarily find Katara's, and there's a mixture of feelings there as well. His smile is forced when he says, "Yes. We can finally go home."
Day 3: Glowing
It may not look like it, but the prompts did matter. I used them to outline some of the scenes and they also helped me with the story's pacing.
