Prompt 11: Walk (#35)

A/N: And now we come to the Tokkangst. I'm surprised it took this long. Please do review this one at least, as Angst is one of my least confident subjects. Did I do okay? What can I do to improve?

"Hey Toph," her heart skips a beat, "wanna go for a walk?"

She lifts her head from where she's resting it - a large slab of earthbent rock, serving as a table. Her response is calculated, carefully lethargic and dispassionate. "To where?"

"Just around." His cheery tone is unaffected by her response.

"Not like I have anything better to do." She hides a giddy, but pained smile behind a lowered head and her bangs. He holds out a hand, and she takes it, ignoring the electric tingling at the touch. It's a practiced reaction, now. Banishing the warm feelings clouding her mind, she allows him to pull her up to her feet, and she dusts herself off casually. "Lead on, Captain Boomerang."

He chuckles and sets off into the forest, and she follows close behind him. They walk in silence for a while, him soaking in the natural ambiance - birdsong, light breeze, warm sun - and her breathing in his presence. He smells like soot, ash, and cooking oil - he was tending to the campfire, and because he cooks, he always smells like his favorite food - roasted meat, rich and mouthwatering.

He's deli- it's delicious, she corrects herself, silently working up a furious blush. She shouldn't be thinking like that. He's not that kind of guy, and to him, she will never be that kind of girl. The thought lingers in her mind, like bitter poison, coloring the occasion dark.

He turns back, head tilted. She can't see it but she can imagine the expression on his face is one of concern. "You're kinda red, there. Do you want me to slow down?"

"I'm fine," she manages to choke out, behind the heat burning on her cheeks. He's attentive - not attentive enough to notice the cause of her situation, but he senses that she's in need. Still, she pushes on. As she said - she'll manage.

He nods, though he gives her another glance before setting off once more. He still slows his place a little for her - she allows a twinge of gratitude to enter her guarded heart. She increases her pace slightly so she walks beside him rather than behind him, and carefully, nonchalantly, takes his hand.

He looks at her, squeezing her hand slightly. "What's the matter?" He's concerned. She rarely takes his hand, only in situations where she can't see. She's aware of this as well, her heart hammering in her chest. What is she doing? It's not like she has any chance - she's just hurting herself. And him. She should let go. She should let go.

She doesn't.

"The ground is soft," She lies. "Too much leaf litter. It's muffling the vibrations."

"Oh," he smiles and nods - he thinks he understands. "Okay then."

He doesn't say any more, but to her his gentle silence is even more piercing than his voice.

Stop it. Stop being so kind, she wants to say. She can't stand being given false hope. Not when he obviously already belongs to someone else.

She clenches a fist, and a small pebble rises from out of the fallen leaves. It hovers momentarily, before being crushed into powder. He doesn't notice, still gently holding her hand like she's the most important thing in the world.

She's not. Not to him, anyway. The most important thing to him is a fierce warrior wielding fans.

Her grip on his hand tightens involuntarily, and he - to her ever mounting frustration - squeezes back. Conscious or instinctual, she doesn't care - she regrets taking his hand now. It's like trying to hold hot coals, or cold ice - it burns her up to have her skin against his.

She tries to let go, but to her horror, he doesn't. "Toph."

Not the carefree, cheery tone he usually has. Deep, magnetic, captivating. Soothing, too. Rage boils up inside her.

She's angry, and she tries harder to shake him off. He flinches, letting go like he's been scalded. She stands there for a moment, dazed. What is she doing? Swinging between giddy happiness and boiling anger, like a self-indulgent child. She's stronger than that. Better than that. She should be a mountain - unyielding. All she is now is a handful of falling sand. Falling apart.

"Toph," he tries again, concern clear in his voice. "What's wrong?"

Nothing. Nothing's wrong, she wants to say. It's not you, it's me - it's obvious the idiot blames himself. He always does. Not this time. "Just… leave me alone."

"I'm… sorry?" He flinches again, and she wants to take everything back. Going on this walk is a bad idea. She sees that now. She's an idiot for letting her guard down and now everything is too far gone to take back.

Idiot. Her face twists into an angry snarl, though the rage isn't directed at him, but at herself. Too proud to let go, too insecure to tell the truth. Stuck between a rock and a hard place.

"It's not your fault." She grinds out, finally. The words drag blood from her. She feels ragged, from months and months of silence and internalized anguish. "It's me."

He leans forward, the concern in him almost palpable, radiating off him through his voice and his actions. She wants to throw up. She can't take his kindness, not when his heart belongs to someone else.

Strong arms wrap around her, and she stiffens, feeling tears threaten to escape the corners of her eyes. She can't breathe, his scent surrounding her, the best kind of worst feeling in the world.

"Let go," She mutters, sounding for all the world like a lost little girl.

"I can't," He says, his voice firm. She can't take it - she dissolves into his arms, crying, choking out incoherent, ragged words and shuddering breaths. Loyal to a fault - she hates that the most about him, because it's what she fell in love with in the first place. She can feel it now - his determination to help her translating into the tight, warm hold he has on her.

He's at a loss, but he can't let go because instinctively, he knows that if he ever lets go, he will never have her back again. He can't take that risk. "Toph, please."

"What?" Small fists beat repeatedly against his shoulder, in frustration and anguish. He takes it stoically, not even wincing. She realizes that he must have been playing up his reaction to her normal punches. She can't even muster up a full breath before it's interrupted by a fit of wracking sobs. "Please what?"

"Tell me what's wrong."

She wants to. She so painfully wants to. It's so easy - spill the dam, and in his stupid, caring nature, he'll sweep her off her feet, exactly the way she dreams of every night, and she'll be in heaven.

But she can't. She can't do that to the man she loves. He'll be torn, afterwards, between his own feelings and hers. She could never do that.

"I can't." She says, defeated. She slumps, unable to struggle against his overwhelming compassion. "I can't." The words sting them both, her because they're true, and him because he does not understand.

"Why?" He tries again.

"I just…" She stops, and screams into his shoulder. He lets her, holding her with dear life like it's the only thing he can do. It may as well be. "I can't."

She pushes against him, and this time he lets go, his breathing heavy and his heart hammering. "Toph - I can't help you if you…"

"You're right. You can't." She doesn't wait for him to finish - she can't. The stone walls are back up, like before the walk. She needs to get back to the others, where she can rebuild her defenses. He shatters them too easily.

"Toph-"

"No." It's both a statement and a plea. Let her go. His hand, raised up at her, flinches back, the fingers curling into a fist as he stares hopelessly at her. She lied to him, he realizes. She could see the whole time. The realization doesn't sting as much as what came before.

She turns away, and runs, the earth swelling up under her. She leaves, blinking away tears that fall from her like burning lava, searing her eyes.

Stupid walk.