A/N: The last of my updates for today- I really need to catch up faster.
These feelings she's starting to get for Zuko are, quite frankly, debilitating.
Katara is a practical, sensible girl, especially when it comes to the opposite sex. Well, other than her little episode with Jet, but she can be forgiven for that! He was the only man she had ever met outside of her own tribe, and he'd seemed so tall and courageous and heroic that she'd fallen head over heels. Then he turned out to be a terrorist scumbag, capable of harming civilians in the name of vengeance- in a matter of seconds, her silly romance had become something far, far more grim.
But she's older now, and wiser. She knows that people are fickle, knows some will take advantage of her kindness for their own gain. Zuko was one of them.
So why is there an odd swooping sensation in the pit of her stomach when she looks at him for too long?
Reluctantly, if she probes, she can admit that he is handsome, for sixteen. There's the brutal scar across the left side of his face, but it doesn't obscure his strong jaw or clear amber eyes or high cheekbones. He's muscular, too- exile and lacking nutrition have slimmed his frame, but the majority of his figure still remains. (She's been staring at his abs when she's supposed to be watching firebending practice. It wasn't her original intention.)
He might have some endearing traits. His dorky half-smiles that practically scream cuddle me now, his willingness to sacrifice, his determination whenever he sets his sights on something. Perhaps, now that she has forgiven him, they could be friends.
(Katara wonders once if this is how Aang feels about her. Always there, but always out of reach. This is her punishment, maybe- to hopelessly admire from afar- because Zuko has a girlfriend. Mai, Azula's dour lackey, who threw herself to the wolves at the Boiling Rock to save him. She's torn between gratitude and niggling envy.)
"Do you want any help with that?" a raspy voice inquires.
She looks up sharply, arms buried in the sink, to find Zuko standing in the kitchen doorway. Doing the dishes, by this point, is second nature to her- most household chores are. She takes care of them so that the others can focus on their training- she takes care of others because that is what she was meant to do. This is her domain.
Then again, he doesn't have to help. He's offering. Nobody else has ever bothered to ease her load.
"Sure," she replies, handing him a dishcloth, and tries to restrain the dark blush rising in her cheeks.