I haven't slept all night. How can I? No, I've laid here in my bed, in the red silk sheets with golden thread embroiders of flames around the edges that I never paid attention to until now, and I've stared at the plain ceiling most of the night. I stole a few glances at you, I couldn't help it, but each time I did, the guilt welled up in my gut and it hurt. You'd never understand that though. You can't, because you can't know.

Each time I'd look away from your sleeping face, I wanted to shake you awake and scream at you to leave.

You temptress!

You devil of betrayal!

You lovely distraction of everything else wrong in my life…

She had been my angel for years, that little voice in the back of one's mind; where had she been last night when I brushed that hair from your face? Leaned in for that kiss? Laid you down in front of the fire? Lead you back into this room? Where had that voice been when I removed your clothing? It's her fault for not being there. When had that voice failed me before?

My gut aches again. I can't blame her, what's wrong with me? I'm an awful human being, a despicable person who doesn't deserve her. So we have fights, and arguments, and she complains about everything I do, so what? I love her, don't I? Isn't all those reasons why I feel for her in the first place?

So what am I doing here, in bed, naked, with you?

She's only two rooms away. My mind hopes these walls are thick enough that she could have never heard what happened last night. Hoping the drapes were dense enough so she couldn't peek in to see your hand reach across my chest just now, a soft, happy moan escaping your lips before snuggling next to me, my frozen frame staring at the ceiling.

She doesn't deserve this. She would be shattered. Her face floats to memory when I told her you would be working in the palace as her guard and assistant. She had been so insulted, so determined to hate you. And you, innocent hapless you, have no idea how many quarrels you've been the source of, how many times she's accused me of being exactly what I am right now.

The worst part? I don't even love you. I don't think I even really like you. Don't get me wrong, you're great, you're a good friend and confidant, but love…not ever. Not even close. Not in a million years. Not as long as she's alive…but now, now I've complicated it, haven't I? Now I've made you think I love you, and secured her beliefs in my betraying ways.

Now I've failed everyone.

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AN: So, Zuko's an asshole. Alas, I think anyone that rushes into a relationship when they're what? 17? Would end up this way eventually. Grass is always greener on the otherside, yes? One more chapter to go! I'm also working on another story that will eventually get started up here...I'll reveal what cross that is on the next chapter.