The Truth About Lies
-
You know it's coming. Even through a sleep-induced haze and the smoke of the flickering campfire your eyes still see perfectly.
Across the fire, she sits -your goddess, your siren- she talks to him -your rival, your teacher- like she does every night.
But you know this night is different. Her eyes are filled with an untamed emotion, one that only in your wildest fantasies does she look at you with. His eyes are almost filled with the same quiet passion.
Sleep begins to coax you into its comforting darkness. Your eyes begin to close. His hand moves to touch hers. She has turned to him now, her mouth slightly open.
Blackness. Where you are safe from the coming moment. You know it's imminent. For an instant you consider keeping your eyes closed. Never open them to the truth –the truth that she does not love you.-
Your resolve breaks. You fight of the sleep and managed to crack open one eye. Their lips touch. Intimacy you can only pretend to have known.
You try your very hardest, your mind working furiously in these few seconds, attempting to control a rush of emotions.
Hatred, that she did not chose you –you're just a child-
Sadness, that it is not you sharing the moment –she doesn't need you-
Jealously, that it is him –he's better than you-
But you can't hate her. Not when she looks so happy.
Sleep as allowed you a few seconds of escape but now it pull you back into it's dark clutches, purring in your ear –come, close your eyes and it will all end- Desperately you want to believe, but the part that saw, -through your very own eyes- won't let you ever truly sleep.
-She chose him. Not you.-
You awake the next morning. The sun has chosen to hide behind the mountains; it's soft light spilling over the stone giants. You sneak away, anything to get away from last night.
In a forest clearing you sit, legs crossed, knuckles pushed against each other, you enter a state of forced calm.
Your mind hums. You do your best to stay away from the truth tugging at your conscious. Thankfully your feeble attempt at peace of mind is interrupted by a snap of twig.
Your eyes jolt open, looking round you see a figure moving through the tightly wound trucks. It is impossible to not recognize her.
The yeaning burns inside you –follow her, demand love- you stand up and begin to follow her. From tree to tree you fly, no louder than a bird's wing. You peer out, attempting to catch another glance.
She senses you and turns quickly –can't you see the hated in her eyes? She doesn't want you- you manage to hide just in time. Your breath catches. A moment passes –almost as painful as last night- breezes lace between trees, pulling leaves from branches.
Her walk begins again and soon see stops, hands clasped behind her back as she stares at the swirling leaves. You watch, hypnotized by her. –Why do you keep following?-
As you watch a figure appears from behind a tree. His dark hair –so much like hers- hiding the scar of a father's hatred.
Your eyes widen as he approaches her, placing hands upon her waist –if only you could hold her- her hand lifts to delicately run along his chin.
Anger courses through you. You can't control it –destroy them- tattoos flicker and your hand claws against the bark. Your eyes close and just as suddenly as it came the feeling of anger is gone, replaced with the cold feeling of disappointment.
The glowing has stopped and eyes open. Blinking away tears you leave them –what are you doing? Running away again? - You can't stand the happiness emanating from them.
-She will never be happy with you-
Rain falls around you. You try to block it but it feels too much like her. Cooling, comforting and whispering lies of love and friendship.
The war is over. You are the hero of the world. –not her hero- You've been celebrating for a day now but now the day has given way to a rainy night.
You bid your companions farewell. –you're going so they won't follow- she hugs you and kisses your forehead.
The door slams shut behind you and you finally lose it. A cry rips from your throat and you smash your fist against the side of the home. Tears fall down your cheeks almost as fast as the rain.
The glider opens beside you. Automatically your hands grasp it and you prepare for flight. –For freedom from her-
You brave a last glance into the home. There she is, wrapped around him.
Maybe you can just run.
-But that won't make her love you-
It's the first time you've seen something of hers in years. All those years spent helping people, rebuilding villages and keeping the peace –more like hiding- have amounted to nothing when you see her writing upon that paper. Your vigilance to never see her again breaks almost as your open the scroll.
The paper informs you of a wedding between the Fire Lord and a Lady of the Southern Water Tribe.
One word catches your eye. One word out of a sentence. One word out of a paragraph. One word out of a letter.
Hope you can make it.
Love, Katara.
Love
Love
Love
Love
LOVE
Your hand crumples around the word, crushing it upon her other lies. –she doesn't love you- Using your inner anger, your inner flame the paper blazes into life. You watch, dispassionately tears falling from your eyes as the lies, truth, paper, her, love, all burn into nothing.
The glider opens.
-Perhaps… You can just keep running-
Author's Note
-cough-
Aangst FTW
Inspired by Kyoshi7989 and all her wonderful oneshots.