Prompt: #38. Obsession
Title: Driven
Word Count: 979
Rating: PG-13
Summary: There seems to be a pattern to Zuko's life. Funny that it's Katara who's next in line.
Author's Notes: Love to my beta, Irene.

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It was safe to say, on basically any occasion, that Prince Zuko was whole-heartedly, without a doubt, obsessed.

It began with his burning desire to win father's love and acceptance – for him to just be proud of his son for once – to be seen as an equal in comparison to his younger sister. Even after endless training and persistence – his passionate yearning for his father's approval pushed him farther than he would've thought physically possible – he failed his father, on many clumsy attempts, time and time again.

The Avatar was next, being his last hope to return home and regain any semblance of normality from his life before exile and hopefully for approval in his father's eyes. Zuko sought out the Avatar in every waking moment he had, just as he had done for his father's recognition. It consumed every thought and action, his focus never relenting or conceding for even a mere moment. The thought of returning to a home and being welcomed with open arms by his people – his father -- drove him to the point of flat out hungering for itHis fervor lead him far beyond anything he had expected to do as a younger boy, including traveling the world and following after an obnoxious, 12-year-old airbender.

It was the insufferable 12-year-old boy, in fact, that lead him to his most recent – and what seemed to be the strongest – fixation.

Even as he peered through the thick branches of the bush, he distantly wondered what it was that fascinated him about her. She wasn't anything special, he reminded himself, watching intently as she took off her outer robe and vaguely catching it fall to the ground in a wave of blue fabric to her left. She was only a peasant of the Water Tribe. She meant nothing.

But his eyes didn't leave her dark form as she strode off into the stream, gingerly peeling away the lighter, transparent robe underneath – Zuko tried to force himself to look elsewhere, but to no avail – to take care of her right shoulder with a pang of something that was entirely sure of. Not that he really wanted to think about it much. He distinctly remembered injuring it himself earlier in battle before he had suddenly found himself incapable of movement at the sight of her.

He would've laughed at just how funny that might have sounded if he wasn't in his current circumstances. Or if he was generally a person who laughed.

He tried to remember what he'd been doing before he stumbled across the stream and its latest inhabitant. He'd been searching for the Avatar, sneaking through the forest to search out for his latest campsite when he'd caught movement to his side.

He certainly hadn't expected this.

Zuko told himself that it was shock that was currently disabling his brain to effectively communicate with his body, which was obviously not cooperating at the moment. He distantly thought of how improper it was for royalty to be in any type of situation similar to his current one and he told himself that the logical thing to do would to be to move away and find the avatar, who was surely off guard if his companion felt safe enough to go out for a bath.

But it was a funny thing about those brainwaves, because really, there wasn't much interaction going on right now. He wasn't sure if he was breathing anymore.

Zuko could only continue watching as she let the inner robe gently slip away to join the other on the ground.

Zuko was pretty sure he wasn't breathing.

He vaguely wondered what limb would be severed first if anyone ever caught him. He vaguely wondered what he'd do to himself when he came to his senses and realize just who it was that he was watching, like some perverted, hormonal, average teenaged boy.

He pushed away the voice that told him that that's exactly what he was.

But the thoughts dissipated almost instantly as she went out further into the water, letting herself relish in the coolness of the fresh water and savor how obviously refreshing the water must have to her sore muscles, after being put to use all day. He noticed her flinch slightly when her wounded shoulder reached the water, but after a few moments, she laid back – Zuko had to remind himself that yes, breathing was a good thing – and relaxed. Her injury had completely healed, he noticed interestedly.

Zuko was surprised to see her so at home in her element, as odd as it felt to even admit it to himself. There she was in the midst of a century-long war, completely at peace and trusting the entire world. How foolish, Zuko thought, narrowing his eyes in annoyance. Her naiveté will be the death of her some day, placing too much faith in those around her. Yet, it was intriguing. How someone who could've been exposed to so much would still have so much trust in the world.

He tried to ignore how the moonlight seemed to make her glow or the way that when she took down her hair, he had the strongest urge to touch it, to just run his fingers through every strand and –

Zuko stopped.

I need to leave.

Silently and without hesitation, Zuko turned and was gone.

But the images returned frequently. During the day, Zuko found himself often distracted and not paying full attention to his work. She returned every night, her face always clear and sharp in his mind's eye even when the rest seemed blurry, sometimes by the stream as he'd seen her before, and sometimes in quite different situations, though Zuko believed that he'd never mention those aloud. Zuko was finding it hard to concentrate on anything else. Including the Avatar.

It seems, Zuko thought one night as he stared blankly up at the ceiling above him. That I have a problem. And unlike the problem with his father or his honor or the Avatar, Zuko was going to solve this one.

He was sure of it.