I hate that I can't help but notice you

Day 1: Hair

Katara wasn't sure when she first took notice of Zuko's hair. Maybe she didn't realize she noticed it until later. It wasn't exactly subtle with his ridiculous ponytail when she first saw him in the South Pole.

It didn't change until she'd encountered him and his uncle in that abandoned village when they'd confronted Azula. He had cut it off and his hair was now closely cropped to his head. She didn't pay it much attention, so taken aback by his pain and obvious concern for his uncle. She remembered offering to heal him, before seeing the rage and anguish on the boy's face.

Then, Ba Sing Se. The Crystal Catacombs. His hair had grown a little longer, flopping onto his forehead in a slightly shaggy, messy style. He didn't look half bad that way. Of course, Katara had been too angry to notice until later, when she'd offered to heal his scar. When he'd allowed her to touch his face and look at him, really look at him. His face was thin, with high cheekbones and a strong jawline. The reddish tones of his scar stood out against his pale skin. His lips were soft, slightly chapped, but soft nonetheless. And his hair was thicker, dark, and loose against his forehead. She wondered what his hair felt like, but before she could contemplate it any further, Aang had burst through the cave wall, shattering whatever moment had built between them.

Then Zuko came back. His hair was longer, falling into his eyes across his forehead. And she hated how nice it looked on him. How it enhanced his features in just the right way. How she was suddenly very aware that Zuko was not unattractive. It made it that much harder to hate him. She hated the way his hand would run through his dark locks or the way he pushed it out of his eyes when he was working. She hated the way he almost hid behind it when he was shy. She hated the way it looked when he was bending, whipping wildly across his forehead with the wind. She hated that she liked looking at it, very much.

And most of all, she hated how it wouldn't completely hide his amber eyes whenever he accidentally made eye contact with her. That it didn't hide the vulnerability or his damned sincerity. She hated that his hair couldn't shield her from his molten gaze that burned her inside and out. She hated that she still wondered what it would feel like to run her hands through his locks.

After their field trip, it was a relief to stop trying to hate him. That she could indulge herself without feeling guilty. She could admit that his hair was nice, that it suited him, that it made him look good, almost too good. It was a relief that she could tease him playfully, that she could nudge him with her shoulder or touch his arm.

And one day when she was feeling brave, she reached out and ruffled his hair playfully. He stopped short and looked at her and she was afraid that she had done something wrong. But he was looking at her with a quiet awe and sudden shyness that made her blush and look away. It did not escape her notice that his cheeks were red too.

Eventually, she did learn what it felt like to bury her hands in his hair, but she so desperately wished that she wasn't gently cradling his head because he had taken a damned lightning bolt to the chest for her. She wished that he wasn't so stupidly heroic and reckless. She wished she wasn't wiping it off his forehead that was hot with fever.

But then he woke up and of course the first thing he did was ask her if she was ok with a tenderness that made her chest ache. She had swatted his arm and yelled at him for being such an idiot while crying happy tears of relief. She'd brushed his hair out of his eyes before cupping his cheek gently. Then she'd leaned down and kissed him for all he was worth.

And after they started dating they would cuddle and one of Katara's favorite things to do was play with Zuko's hair. The hair that at one time had been such a distraction and a nuisance. And she was glad that she could admit that she loved it every bit as much as she loved him.


One of the first things Zuko saw about the waterbender was her hair. It was a dark, rich brown that was so different from the inky black of the Fire Nation. And the most curious thing was the two loose strands that hung on the sides of her face held by beads. It...intrigued him.

He couldn't deny that she was beautiful, no matter how hard he tried. He wasn't blind after all. It was difficult not to be mesmerized by the way her long braid whipped in the air so similar to the water whips she wielded. Katara...her name was Katara. Both beautiful and infuriating. And it irritated him that he was still a 16-year-old boy with stupid teenage hormones and Uncle's knowing gaze didn't help either.

It got worse when he joined the Avatar. Her hair was loose now, dark and flowing in the wind. It was difficult not to openly stare when he first saw her. And not to mention that she hated him. He stole glances at her when she wasn't looking and couldn't help but notice the warm color it took when it was reflected in the firelight. It suited her, it made her look older, which he supposed she was. She was no longer the naive young girl from the South Pole.

She'd tied it back when they went on their field trip together, but it was still long where it flowed behind her as she bended, a fierce warrior in the rain. And when she hugged him, he had buried his face in her hair, smelling the faint scent of the sea breeze that always seemed to linger around her.

Once he had braided her hair like he used to with his mother...and with Azula when she was little. When she wasn't poisoned by their father. Katara's hair was thicker and slightly more coarse than Azula's silky locks. Katara's hair was wavy instead of straight. He was gentle, careful not to pull or tangle the strands of hair as he braided. She looked lovely.

On Ember Island, it was a bit of a shock to see her hair in a Fire Nation style, but she still looked beautiful. Zuko had to resist brushing her hair back from her face and tried not to wonder if it was as soft and silky as it seemed.

It was only when she kissed him that he dared reach up and touch it. He gently grasped the back of her head and let his fingers entwine in her locks, and it was even softer than he had imagined. When she kissed him again, he fisted his hand in her hair to bring her closer to him so that he wouldn't have to let her go.

When they were dating, he would braid her hair for her and gently stroked her hair until she fell asleep. He loved being able to comfort her, to touch her like this. Almost as much as he loved her. Agni, he was so stupidly in love, but he was ok with that.


Author's Note: Hi! Omg hi everyone! I'm SO SO SO sorry about my long absence from here. I know I should be finishing Force Bonds but I took a break from fandom stuff for a bit and while I did, I discovered ATLA and Zutara and I've completely fallen in love. I have not abandoned Reylo and I DO plan on finishing Force Bonds soon! But this is my first Zutara Week so I wanted to try a little something. Thank you so much for your patience!