DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN AVATAR THE LAST AIR BENDER: ALL RIGHTS ARE RESERVEDFOR IT'S RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

"Agonizing Understanding"

1.) Agonize: to suffer extreme pain or anguish

2.) Understanding: a mutual agreement

P.S: I am sooooooooooooo sorry about the late update! I thought I'd be able to catch up this weekend, but, as it was, my files didn't want to publish. So once again, I am very sorry!

Zuko remembered the night he had first begun to understand her. The first time she had truly opened her heart up to him again, allowing him to see past the surface, the surface covered with cracks and lies.

Katara wasn't a child, she wasn't the fourteen year old girl traveling with the avatar whom he had pursued limitless times before in the previous years. She had grown, transforming into a magnificent beauty. The beauty of a princess and the fiery attitude of the Fire Nation, though he would never say such a thing to her; it would only insult her and ruin the progress he had made thus far with her.

He pulled himself free of his thoughts for a moment, to simply admire her from afar, like he had been doing every night since two months ago. After he had escorted her to vanquish her mother's killer, and she had resisted, they're new found truce had rocked shakily, barely managing to remain on solid ground. She was still leery of him, afraid he would hurt her again. As if he didn't see the hesitant and worried looks of vulnerability in her eyes whenever she thought he wasn't looking. The distrustful glint in her eyes was enough to physically pain him.

He was bound and determined to gain her full trust, if it was the last thing he did. He couldn't bear it if she were to remain in this state of doubtfulness and hesitance around him for the rest of their time together. The thought alone pained him.

Summoning up all the courage he could muster, he took a step toward her, to her form resting on the pier overlooking a river.

She had sat in the same spot almost two months ago, after they returned from their journey. He remembered her, bathed in the mustard yellows and bright oranges of sunset, feet dangling over the wooden perch, splashing the water to and fro, brow furrowed, lips drawn; thus, an image of recollection, of remembrance. Clearly she was remembering her mother's death, her mother's killer. Facing him must have broken yet another piece of her.

He had felt drawn to her that night on Appa's saddle. For reasons he was unsure of, that night was one of the brightest in his memories, despite the circumstances that the two of them were in at the time. Even with her adorning the marks of sleeplessness beneath her eyes, anger and fury and lustful revenge swimming in those once innocent and loving blue orbs, she was alluring. Hair drawn back messily, lips taut, hands gripping the saddle violently, Zuko had truly seen Katara. Truly seen the girl for what she was beneath her perfectly placed disguise. She tried for years on end to hide her true feelings on the matter of her mother's death, and the war she was brought into only ignited those memories and feelings she had tried so desperately to forget. He had only furthered that blaze of havoc, oblivious to the state his actions were placing her in. If he could, he would take it all back, rewind time and join the avatar in the beginning. He would do anything for her.

And even understanding these things, these new found, fragile, foreign emotions that had suddenly begun to sprout within his chest, she was still a stranger to him, seeking refuge in that of another mask, that of another façade. This time not a mask of false happiness, of plastic forgiveness. This time, the mask was that of an impassive alien.

Zuko knew that neither of these characters was the real girl he was in love with. But this knowledge also complicated things further. How could he be in love with a girl who always wore a new face? Whenever someone found her out she would sink back into herself, find a new mask and wear that one until someone new came along and found her out once more. The cycle would only continue; Zuko knew this and understood that he had to be the one to end it. Once and for all.

Carefully he stepped closer to the girl, gentle with his footfalls so as not to alarm her. She knew he was there all along though.

"Have you no one else to speak with?" she asked softly, emotionlessly. "As you can clearly see, I am not in the mood to associate with anyone."

Zuko didn't speak, merely lowered himself to the pier next to her, admiring the moon's reflection on the water below. The deep pool of liquid appeared an ink black against a purple night sky, the two different bodies touching gently, never ending. Zuko noticed Katara, face expressionless, twisting and turning a stream of liquid absently around her fingers. He had never seen her look so much like a corpse.

"Stop hiding from this Katara," his voice was gentle but also firm. He needed to snap her out of this state of indifference. He didn't think he could continue to watch as she shrank further and further back into herself, giving herself over to the dark waters claiming her mind. She had already fallen victim; was there still time to save her?

She didn't turn, didn't twitch; merely stared into the water below. "Why does it matter?" her voice seemed to carry on the wind. "Why does it matter so much to you what happens to me?"

In truth, he wasn't completely sure. "Because I care about you, about my friends. I cannot bear to watch as you live within this world of turmoil and destruction which you have constructed within yourself. It's suicidal, Katara. You have to break free of this pain; otherwise you won't be able to move on."

The water stooped floating above the surface; it splashed back into the river with a smack. Slowly, her eyes turned and pierced his. "Why does it matter?!" she practically yelled. "What if I don't want to get over it? Huh? What if I simply want the anger and pain and unbearable truth to control me, drive me to insanity, kill—"

"Stop it," he growled. He seized her wrists and focused on her eyes, she tried to turn away. "Stop hiding from me," he whispered brokenly; his voice was practically pleading with her. This time she looked back at him, inquisitively.

"Stop pretending to be someone you're not. Please."

She studied him for a long time before releasing a shaky breath; he noticed she had tears in her eyes.

"I don't even know who I am anymore," she sounded like a lost child, abandoned, lonely. "I've tried to be something I'm not for most of my life; I don't think I even remember who I truly am. The little girl I once was."

He pulled her into an embrace, cradling her head as she sobbed uncontrollably into his chest. Hands fisted the fabric his shirt as if he were somehow a life preserver, her beacon of hope in the world of darkness she was sentenced to live in. Something so pure just didn't belong in something so tainted.

Once she had quieted, eyes groggily closing in exhaustion, he spoke. "I know who you are," he whispered, unaware that she could still hear him. He believed she was asleep. "You're Katara… the strong, stubborn, loving water bender of the group. The one who keeps us all together, the one that challenges me on a daily basis and never sways from her opinion… The one who believes in what is right, what is moral…" he paused, as if debating something within his mind. Suddenly, he continued, voice firm and strong. "The one I'm in love with."

*******So how was this one? This does not, in any form or fashion, constitute as a drabble but I just couldn't seem to stop writing. I hope you enjoyed it anyways, despite it not being a drabble. I considered posting it as a standalone one- shot but I decided against it; it just fits right into Destiny's Words.

REVIEW!!!!

~Moonlit- Silhouette