She hadn't meant to do it. Honestly, she'd just been trying to tease.
But Zuko hadn't taken it that way.
She'd been doing the dishes in the small kitchen that they shared on Ember Island and was currently elbow deep in soapy, warm water.
All Zuko had been trying to do was help. He stood next to her, his shoulder nearly brushing hers, and had started drying the clean dishes with a dish cloth.
Their relationship had been…different since Yon Rha, to say the least. Katara felt more open with him, felt as if he was her friend, felt as if she could tell him things.
So she bumped her hip against his playfully. He immediately retaliated by bumping back, a smile on his face but with his gaze still trained to the dishes. Soon both were pushing against the other forcefully while still trying to stay upright. Katara bit down on her bottom lip, trying not to laugh.
And then Zuko splashed her.
She squealed in surprise and splashed him back, using her bending for extra soaking. And then his hand was in the sink, causing the temperature of the water to shoot to an uncomfortably hot level. Katara shrieked and Zuko laughed and before she could really consider what she was doing she bent water into his face, knowing that he could handle the heat.
He'd always able to handle the heat.
Zuko gasped, dropped the dish rag and clutched at his scarred eye with a curse.
Katara felt the blood drain out of her face.
"I'm sorry!" she cried, clutching at his arm. "I didn't mean—"
"It's fine," he snapped, cutting her off. "You got my scar. I can't actually feel much there." But when he pulled his hand away the skin of his scar and around his scar looked awfully red.
And Katara, feeling awkward and uncomfortable and wanting desperately to cover her mistake, said, "Good thing it hit your scar, then. I wouldn't want to burn another part of you with another bending accident."
As soon as the words left her mouth she knew that she shouldn't have said anything.
Zuko stared down at her, eyebrows furrowed and a frown obscuring his expression. "I didn't get my scar from a bending accident," he said softly before turning away from her.
The waterbender felt something curl in her stomach, something unpleasant and horrified. She watched his back for a brief moment as her mind thought up all the other ways Zuko could have gotten that scar. For some reason she'd always assumed that it was an accident, something similar to the time that Aang had burned her hands.
But then she remembered who his father was.
She said nothing; she simply stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Zuko's middle, pressing her cheek against his shoulder blade.
"I'm sorry," she breathed, eyes watering. She tightened her grip on the boy, complying with the urge to never let him go.
"It's okay." His tone was reassuring. His fingers brushed over hers and she sniffed, wondering not for the first time what else there was about Prince Zuko that she didn't know or understand.
But there was one thing that they both did understand, and that was that Zuko wanted her to let him go about as much as she did.
And she never wanted to let him go.