Disclaimer: No, I don't own Avatar, the song, Snoopy, or Rent, the movie.
No matter how much I want to. (Pouts.)
Katara is singing. Zuko is annoyed.
"Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes…" Her voice is brashly echoing in the air, and he clutches his head, twirling a pencil irately in his hands. "Five hundred twenty five thousand moments so dear, five hundred—"
"Katara!"
"Yes, Zuzu?" She smiles sweetly. Zuzu scowls back and curses Azula for ever giving him that nickname. Then telling everybody about it.
"Don't call me Zuzu. And stop singing!"
Katara clasps a hand to her mouth instantly, her face portraying the perfect picture of (fake. It's fake, dammit!) saddened shock. "But Zuzu ("don't call me Zuzu!"), I thought you loved my singing. Doesn't it bring joy and enlighten your murky heart?"
She receives a blank stare in return. (Okay, so maybe she overdid it just a little bit…)
"No, Zuko, I won't stop, because I really, really like singing!"
Zuko, in response, glares at her. It's very menacing, but in kind of a seductive way. "Not while we're studying for that Calculus test, Katara."
Katara raises an eyebrow. She hates Calculus with a burning passion. So Zuko, being the helpful, amiable boyfriend he was, had offered to tutor her. (A mistake, she knew, he was now regretting dearly.) She schemes. She smirks.
"Well, Zuko, if you don't want me singing," She tucks a piece of hair behind her ears and swipes her tongue along her lips. Cherry Chapstick. "Is there something else," Katara drops on all fours in a single, fluid movement, draping her hair over her shoulder and begins to pad gracefully towards him. She juts her jaw into his face. She sees his eyes widen.
Katara smiles.
"Anything," She continues, as their noses touch and bump together. "Else you want me to do instead?" Katara bumps her lips against Zuko's, for the briefest of moments. Their breaths still mingle when she pulls back just a fraction of a centimeter later.
Zuko's breathe catches for a moment. His heart stops. Eyes slant craftily, hot and fevered and passionate. "Actually, yes." He leans forward. They kiss for two and a half seconds.
Then a large, thick textbook is shoved in her face. Katara shifts in confusion. Zuko smirks at her. "Page ninety-one, exercises A through J, and show your working." He tosses a pencil, an eraser, and a Snoopy protractor at her. "Don't wait up."
For a moment, the girl stares at the unappealing book helplessly. Then she snaps her head up to glower heatedly at Zuko, who's suppressing a chuckle. A very distinctive word floats out between her teeth. " Bastard." Zuko smirks wider.
Ah well. Nothing more to lose now. "How do you measure, measure a year? In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights, in cups of coffee. In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife. Five hundred twenty five thousand…"
Zuko groans. Katara laughs.