A/N: Toph is 20ish here, I guess.
"When was the last time you brushed your hair?" Katara asked with exasperation, trying to deal with the mess.
"I don't– Ow, for fuck's sake, don't pull so hard! I don't know! I'm too busy to brush my hair!"
Toph really didn't know why she was tolerating this.
Oh, wait— Yes, she did. It was because Sokka was dating again. And she was a love-sick idiot who couldn't stomach the thought of him with yet another woman that wasn't her.
Spirits, I'm pathetic. Aloud—and with a dramatic, wavy hand gesture—she said, "Can't you waterbend the tangles out?"
"It doesn't work like that. Why don't you just spend two minutes brushing it every day?"
"'Cause I don't fucking care, Sugar Queen! How can I make you understand that?"
"Spirits save me for asking this question," Katara said with a long-suffering sigh, "but if you don't care, then why did you ask—no, demand—that I do this?"
On the way over to her friend's house, Toph had run through a list of ways to answer that question. They were all terrible and almost certainly transparent.
Having no retort for once, she maintained a brooding silence.
"Um, Toph, hello?"
"What?"
"You're just…not going to answer me?"
Toph shrugged but felt her traitorous face flush with heat.
"Why are you blushing?" Katara asked instantly. Then she gasped. "Oh, Spirits! Are you trying to impress someone?! You are, aren't you! Ooh, I knew it! So Toph Beifong does get crushes, after all. Who is it? Anyone I know?"
"Let it go," Toph said with a sigh, attempting to put on a bored, nonchalant face. "I don't get crushes." Not anymore. Oh, no. I just fall face first into sloppy, wet love-puddles for goofy, meatheaded, muscle-brained idiots…
The mischievous chuckle Katara gave her was somehow worse than the barrage of nosy questions. Did she suspect the truth? Would it be better just to tell her and get it over with?
"Well, Toph, I have some bad news. You've waited too long. It's going to have to come off."
"Come…off…" she muttered dumbly. "You mean like…cut it?" It was such a foreign concept to her that she couldn't believe Katara would suggest such a thing. She'd never had more than a tiny trim off the ends, and even then, not since she was a little kid.
"Yes, cut it. Short."
"...How short?"
"Probably about up to your chin. Maybe a little longer. I'll do what I can. But don't worry, it'll look good."
"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Her skepticism had less to do with Katara's unknown haircutting abilities and more to do with the fact that she had no concept of what Sokka might think of her having short hair. For fuck's sake, get a grip, Toph! You've never cared about what he thought about your appearance before!
"Don't worry, I've done this lots of times. Are you ready?"
Toph sighed in resignation. "I guess…"
Thirty minutes later it was done and she felt…weird. Her hands went up to her head and cautiously felt around it.
"Well?" Katara asked. "What do you think?"
"It feels so…light. There's barely anything left." The beginnings of panic were setting in. She had no clue if it looked good or not and hated so much that she even cared. Her hair had always been part of her, not in terms of appearance, but as a comforting weight atop her head.
"You look worried."
"I dunno… I don't know how to feel about it."
"It looks great! I'm sure whoever you're trying to impress will love it." She snickered and elbowed Toph's arm playfully.
As if on cue, the faint sound of the front door opening reached them.
"Katara?" Sokka's voice called, sending a wave of nervous flutters through Toph's stomach. "I'm here! When's dinner? Where are you? I'm starving!"
"Back here!" Katara called. "Toph's here, too!"
From the vibrations of his steps, Toph got the vague impression that he was covering his eyes with his hand when he opened the door.
"Are you two decent?"
"Spirits, Sokka," Katara said with annoyance. "I wouldn't have told you to come back here if we weren't!"
"Okay, ok— Whoa!"
Toph was grateful to still be facing away from the door because her face instantly went hot. She took a couple of deep breaths to calm herself, then stood up with a flourish. "Whaddya think, Meathead? Katara thought I needed a new 'do."
And what happened next shocked her to her core:
Sokka's heart began to beat faster. It was matching the pace of her own, beat for beat.
"Wow! That's…different. It uh– It looks good! Yeah, really good."
Toph smirked, her usual confidence returning with the knowledge that she looked good. Not just good, but good to him. There was interest there—however hesitant—and that was better than fucking nothing.
She planted her hands on her hips. "Don't you try to charm me like I'm one of your airheaded floozies," she said, just to tease him in front of Katara. Then, putting a distinct sway in her hips, she sauntered out of the room. Out of the house. Across the yard towards a more secluded area.
Follow me.
C'mon. Follow me.
Sokka of the Southern Water Tribe wasn't known for being quick on the uptake but, for once in his life, he figured it out and did as he was told.