Katara should be worried, but she just feels hollow and insignificant as a pair of irate men from SR management berates her from across the table. She doesn't even know what they're yelling about anymore. All that matters is that she screwed up, and as much as Aang tries to alleviate the situation, there's no getting around the fact that it was her fault. She should've triple-checked those addresses before sending the emails...
"Gentlemen, there's no point in continuing this—this harassment!" Aang raises his voice, growing discontent on her behalf. "What's done is done, and we must work on countermeasures—"
"Countermeasures would not be necessary had your employee done her job properly," one of the men cuts him off at the same time as the other adds, "Do not expect us to do business with a team of incompetent buffoons such as yours ever again—"
"Then maybe it's time for you to leave."
"Aang..."
"If we're done here," her boss continues, resolute. Smiling professionally, he points the guests to the door. "Katara and I have plenty of work to get back to."
One of the men stops, glances at Katara with contempt, then lands his eyes on Aang. "Perhaps you should consider nipping weak flowers in the bud before they cause you more trouble."
"Your advice is unasked for, sir," Aang replies, his voice low and controlled, but with an edge that makes Katara shiver.
Her eyes follow the men to the front door, but she feels like she's trapped inside a foggy dream—the corners of her vision blurring and ears ringing, and it's hard to think clearly. Aang puts a hand on her shoulder, saying something that's too muffled for her to discern.
Swallowing the lump in her throat, she nods weakly before robotically returning to her desk. As she drops herself on her chair, Katara lets out an audible sigh and squints at her monitor, making a conscious effort to ignore the concerned glances her coworkers send her way. She's maybe read a grand total of two sentences when she senses a presence standing right behind her.
"Whatever you have to say," she says to his reflection on her screen, "save it. I'm not in the mood for your lecturing."
"I'm not going to lecture you," he grunts, placing something on the coaster next to her keyboard with a clunk. "I brought you tea. Lavender."
Surreptitiously, she looks at it, and her distress is immediately replaced by confusion.
"That mug…" It looks like her old mug, except the one Zuko brought has a yellow handle and small pineapple doodles instead of cacti.
"It's for you. To make up for the one I broke," he mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "I couldn't find the exact same model, but you like pineapples too, so…"
Katara flushes as she remembers that pizza night with Zuko… and his sister, and it makes her wonder whether the gift has other hidden meanings or not. "Say, have you ever discussed tropical fruits with your sister?"
"... Is that something you normally discuss with your brother?"
"What—" she gasps. "Of course not!"
"Then why on earth is that any relevant?" Zuko asks, shifting his weight from one foot to the other and crossing his arms.
"You know what? Forget I asked," Katara grumbles, hunching over her desk and blocking him from her view.
"Don't mind if I do," he says before stomping away from her desk, and she glares at his back until he's out of sight.
When he's gone, Katara picks up the mug, a fragrant flowery scent hitting her nostrils, and the tea is warm and comforting, and the mellow taste of honey is a nice touch, and her cheeks hurt trying to hide her smile.
thanks for the tea
and the mug, she messages him, and she sees the ellipsis immediately appear under it.
You're welcome, he sends back. And then, If you're feeling better, stop procrastinating and send me that budget proposal already
She snorts in incredulity as she closes the tab. With a glint of mischief, she goes back to appreciating her cozy beverage, deciding that the nagging idiot can very much wait for her to finish her damn tea before going back to belittling her again.
With the renovation project finally approved, Katara and Zuko find the soonest opening in their schedules to go empty up Ty Lee's bookshop for the contractors to get started. As they diligently pack boxes and more boxes of books, it becomes impossible to ignore the sight of their client getting emotional, and as soon as she starts weeping, Zuko suggests that she leave the rest to him and Katara and go for a walk around the block to calm down. Ty Lee protests at first, but she's in no condition to keep working, and it's not that hard to change her mind, though the woman only agrees to leave after promising to fetch them all some sweet treats while she's out.
And so, the two of them are left to their own devices.
As he works on boxing the children's section, one familiar cover catches his attention. He picks it up to casually flip through its pages, but the nostalgia that floods his mind has him enraptured. He takes a seat on the ladder's step as childhood memories flood his mind, and he's reminded of the warmth of his mother's smile and the softness of her voice when she read him and his sister tales of the stars and of love.
A finger traces the delicate figures that seem to dance in front of his eyes as he remembers how Azula hated the legend of the Qixi Festival growing up. Even from a young age, the idea of having someone else control her life was unfathomable to the girl, and she related little to the tale of the misfortuned lovers.
"Slacking off, Mr. Grumpy?"
Zuko jumps at the sound of her voice right next to his ear. She's so close he can feel her standing behind him, and his heart races. He curses inside his head for not noticing her presence sooner. "Can you not?"
"Whatcha got there?" she asks, completely ignoring his indignance and leans over his shoulder to check what he had been so enthralled about.
He holds his breath, grip tightening for the smallest fraction of time before relaxing again. The back of his neck is burning, and he keeps his eyes glued to the page as he mumbles, "Just some story my mom used to read me and my sister when we were little."
Katara hums. "The Cowherd and the Weaver Girl?"
"I liked the smidge of realism," he says with a sheepish chuckle. "I mean, not realism per se, but the stars and the Milky Way part, they tied up with the real world and made me believe that maybe Zhinu and Niulang did live up there in the sky at one point—" Zuko wants to kick himself for blabbering about a stupid children's book like a dweeb. Dejected, he looks down at his hands and the lump in his throat grows bigger. His voice is raspy when he admits, "It's stupid."
"I don't think it is," Katara whispers back, placing a hand on top of his, and he goes rigid at the contact. Though her hand is small and delicate compared to his, there is so much conviction in the gesture that Zuko allows himself to believe her. She starts to pull back, but before the connection is entirely lost, he weaves their fingers together, trapping her there with him for a while longer.
When their eyes meet, he drowns. Her eyes are wide, pools of blue so mesmerizing he can't look away. They're close enough that her breath tickles his nose when she exhales. Her lips part to say something, but no sound comes out.
"Katara…" Zuko's not sure what he intends to accomplish when her name rolls off his tongue. It's unbearable—the proximity, the distance, everything. He swallows once, deciding to take a chance. The gap between them shortens infinitesimally, but it makes every inch of his body vibrate altogether.
"Flirting in broad daylight? Shame on you, brother."
There's no mistaking that voice, and he jumps off the ladder at the same time as Katara stumbles back and attempts to blend with the bookshelf behind her.
On the other end of the corridor, Azula stands with her hands on her hips and an arched eyebrow that dances between Katara and himself. His sister is also accompanied by a person whose expression of pure boredom sends an eerie chill down his spine.
"Shouldn't you be at work, Azula?" Zuko snarls, crossing his arms.
Azula mimics her brother's stance with defiance. "Shouldn't you?"
"I am working."
"Is that what the kids are calling it these days?"
"I'm older than you, remember?"
"And lamer, but who's keeping tabs?"
Zuko is about to escort her out when Katara steps in with her professionally crafted smile on as she greets the other women cordially. "Good to see you again, Azula."
"I'm sure it is, peasant."
"The bookshop is closed today, so I'm afraid that if you're here to purchase a book, you will have to look somewhere else—"
"We're being sassy today, aren't we?" Azula challenges, competitiveness burning in her eyes like flames.
"Are we ever not?" Katara wonders, fluttering her eyelashes innocently.
Azula rolls her eyes, but the smirk on her lips is amused. They're in on the same joke—whatever it may be, and not for the first time, Zuko curses the higher powers that decided to let those two forces ever meet.
"Well, if you must know," his sister says, "Ty Lee required my skills with some misplaced keys to a storage room, I believe."
"You mean your skills for petty crime?" he scoffs, shaking his head.
"Whatever you want to call it." Azula keeps her chin up, completely unfazed by his chiding remark. "So where is this door I'm supposed to gain access to?"
"Here, I'll show you," Katara says, motioning with one hand, and leads the girl to the other room.
As the pair disappears, Zuko glances back at Mai, and an aching sensation strikes him square in the chest. Their breakup wasn't optimal, and although she's told him time and time again that there are no hard feelings there, he still blames himself for how things ended between them.
Mai tilts her head as if able to read his convoluted thoughts and says, "Long time no see, Zuko."
"Yeah," he replies lamely and rubs the back of his neck. "How have you been?"
"Fine." Mai shrugs, directing her attention to the book spines on the nearest shelf. "From the looks of it, you have as well."
"I suppose I have…" Silence befalls them, and he just stares at her as if that will help make things less awkward.
Mai sighs, exasperation slipping through the cracks in her carefully crafted blank expression. "Zuko, we dated. Get over it, or you're gonna make your girlfriend misunderstand things."
"She's not—it's not like that." He rubs his eyes and shakes his head vehemently. "She's a friend. If even that much," Zuko mumbles the last part feeling dejected.
"You don't have to explain yourself to me. Whatever you do and whomever you do it with is none of my business."
"Right..."
As the awkward silence is prolonged, and Zuko shifts on his feet anxiously, Mai lets out a long sigh that borders exasperation. "You're not a bad guy, Zuko," she says. "There's no problem in putting yourself out there every once in a while."
Mai's words lift a huge weight off his chest, and the fact that they come from her makes them even dearer to him. When he raises his eyes, she gifts him with one of her rare smiles.
"And even if you don't trust yourself, trust me when I say it: Any girl would be lucky to be with you."
Ty Lee is overjoyed when she returns and sees her friends there. She calls for an early wrap and is turning on the espresso machine and pressing all sorts of buttons because she's always wanted to learn how to make coffee drinks and now she has enough subjects to put her skills to the test, so they all gather at the cafe counter, watching the new owner produce bags of coffee beans and cartons of milk and line everything up almost as if she knows what she's doing.
"Shouldn't you read the instructions first?" Zuko asks, glancing up for a second, frowning, and then shifting his attention back to his phone to continue working (or at least pretend to work).
"Where's your sense of adventure, Zuzu?" Azula leans back on the two hind legs of her stool and shoots a bean at her brother's face.
"Sorry to disappoint you, but I have this minor aversion to having my face melted," he grumbles, swatting away one of Azula's projectiles.
"Don't be so dramatic, Zuko—" A loud puff of steam comes out of one of the pipes, making Ty Lee squeal in surprise. She drops the cup on the counter and holds her hand tightly. "Ouch. That hurt."
"It's steam, what were you expecting?" Mai mocks with a roll of eyes.
"For it to not hurt that much!" Ty Lee pouts, curling up in pain.
Katara's motherly instincts kick in, and she jumps off her seat. "Let me see it." She gently holds Ty Lee's hand and carefully inspects the reddening skin. "Oh, it's not that bad."
"You're such a baby," Mai scoffs but still goes to the fridge to find the ice tray.
"B-but it hurts!"
"Step aside," Azula sighs, shooing the other girls out of the way. She rolls up her sleeves and meticulously inspects the functionings of the espresso machine. Like anything else she does, Azula moves with confidence and precision, and she's done pouring their beverages in no time.
"Done this before?" Katara asks as Azula sprinkles cinnamon on her latte.
"No, I'm just naturally gifted like that."
"Cute."
Ty Lee giggles, jumping up and down in place, and her arms flail with glee. "Oh, Azula would look super cute as a barista."
"I would pay to see her dealing with customers," Zuko mumbles under his breath with a snort.
Having been the only one to hear him, Katara pokes his arm with the back of her spoon and looks at him with an arched eyebrow. "That's rich coming from you."
"As socially inept as you may think I am, at least I wouldn't threaten to stab people with a butter knife."
"... I don't know if you're joking right now."
When he looks at her, his smile is as sardonic as it gets. "Believe me, Katara: I'm not."
When Azula pulls a whiskey bottle from Ty Lee's grandpa's liquor collection, Zuko announces that it's time to go back to the office, and Katara gladly concurs, because as much as she's having fun with that crazy little girl gang, it's a Tuesday night, and she doesn't know if she'll survive a repeat of her last drunken misadventures…
They're walking side by side, the street lamps lighting up as the last few streaks of sunlight disappear. It's too quiet, neither traffic nor the occasional passersby distracting Katara from the guy next to her. She feels her entire face heating up, so she frantically looks for a way to keep things casual. Tucking some loose hair behind her ear, she mentions, "It's funny how those three are friends."
Zuko, hands in pockets and relaxed shoulders, merely shrugs. "They've known each other for ages."
"And you too, I'm assuming?"
"I think they only saw me as their punching bag," he says morosely.
Katara laughs, but a quick glance at his face immediately makes her stop. "Oh, wait, you're being serious."
"It's fine." He lets out a sheepish smile. "I, uh… probably deserved it…"
"What do you mean?" She tries not to prod, but she can't help it. Watching Ty Lee, Azula, and Mai's antics up close was fun in its own right, but getting to know them only made her more curious about what Zuko was like outside of their workplace.
"Let's just say that I haven't been the most present of brothers…" He rubs the back of his neck and exhales a long, tired breath. "I'm grateful that Azula had people she could rely on when I wasn't around."
Katara bites her lip, holding her questions to herself. She keeps quiet, giving him time to choose whatever else he's comfortable sharing—if anything at all. To her mild surprise, a moment later, Zuko is speaking again.
"Sometimes I wonder if there's a part of her that still resents me." His voice weakens, and his steps start to drag as if he no longer has the strength to keep going.
Trying to conceal the worry on her face, Katara puts a hand on his arm and gives it a little squeeze. She smiles. "For what it's worth, you two seem pretty close now, and that's what matters, right?"
She intends to continue walking, but he tugs her hand, pulling her back. She turns around, but he won't meet her eyes. He's staring at the space between their feet, lips pressed into a thin line and hand still tightly gripping hers. Tentatively, she takes a step in his direction, and she can see him flinching, but Zuko still doesn't look up.
"You think people can atone for past mistakes?" He speaks so quietly she has to make an effort to hear it. Zuko's voice is raspy with the dejected vulnerability of someone who's been singed too many times, and it breaks her heart. It makes her feel stupid for ever seeing him as nothing but a conceited jerk.
She squeezes his hand, speaking softly, "When someone works as hard as you to make up for them, of course."
Zuko finally raises his head, and there are a thousand emotions swimming in his eyes.
She swallows, uncertainty making her heart speed up and her legs tremble. She's about to say something, tell a joke maybe, but he beats her to it. He clears his throat, breaking eye contact and staring to the other side of the street. His hand slips from hers. "How about we get something to eat? There's a nice noodle cart that's usually parked around here."
Katara sighs, crossing her arms to hide her shaking. "You sure, Zuko? I don't wanna send you any mixed messages."
"Yeah, I meant to apologize for that." He chuckles, running a hand through his messy hair.
She smiles back. "So you don't think I send you mixed messages?"
"Oh, no, I still think you're the most confusing person I ever met, Katara."
Zuko traces an agonizing line up her arm, making her shiver. His fingers move up and up, every inch of her skin he touches set on fire, and then he's cupping her cheek, calloused fingers hesitant, but gentle and so quintessentially Zuko that she loses track of everything else. Her throat feels too dry, and when she speaks, the words come out as little more than a whisper, "That so?"
"Yes..."
A single breath separates them now, and if she stretches just a little bit, she can reach him, but she's hypnotized by his gaze, his touch, his scent… she's held hostage with no other choice but to wait.
Thankfully, he seems to be on the same page as her, for he leans in the rest of the way to meet her lips with his. Zuko clearly intends for the kiss to be nothing more than a soft peck, but she remedies that by tangling her fingers in his hair and trapping his lower lip between her teeth. He moans against her mouth, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her impossibly closer. Following her lead, he kisses her back deeply, almost desperately, and in no time, they are both too out of breath to continue.
Completely flushed and still panting, Katara's hands slide to his jaw, and her thumbs caress his cheeks.
He sighs, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against hers. He continues to hold her securely against his chest, not giving her any room to escape—as if she'd be stupid enough to do that.
Feeling the uneven rising and falling of his chest, she chuckles, and when he opens his eyes in question, she whispers against his mouth, "How's that for confusing?"
Day 4: Lavender
Making out scenes... not my forte. I much rather write sassy banter. Also, I wish I could play with the Tyzula scenes more...
