A/N: This piece makes a few references to my one-shot 'Black and White'. I'm not entirely happy with this one either; it was a struggle for some reason.
Travels through the Alphabet with Mai
Part 14, Nostalgia
Charcoal eyes stared out at Mai from the portrait.
"So young,' she whispered, letting her fingers trace the red painted frame. "So much pain, so much hidden; but there was joy too and discovery. There was sacrifice and there was survival."
The drawing captured Mai and Zuko near the beginning of their journey, soon after Zuko's return to the Fire Nation. Nothing was certain then. Twisted and manipulated, plagued by guilt and confusion, Zuko was a mess. And Mai, she kept him sane. Their moments together were sometimes tumultuous, sometimes filled with quiet anger and sorrow and sometimes filled with exquisite joy; they were some of the finest moments that Mai could recall.
Yes, they were married now, with two children and a circle of friends that offered love and support unconditionally. Their love had blossomed, their passion did not waver. But sometimes, when Mai stared deep into those charcoal eyes, the eyes of their youth, she longed to go back, even for a day or an hour.
The intensity and stupidity of young love was an intoxicating experience. Everything was ahead of them then, a mysterious void of future days. Back then, while the artist rendered their likenesses with such thrilling accuracy, their lives might have taken many turns. Back then anything was possible. So many milestones, so many wonders were yet to be experienced.
"It still is and there still are," Zuko reminded her. Wrapping strong arms about her waist, he tugged her close. "I know what you're thinking. And Agni, I was a mess in those days."
"Oh, and how do you know that?" She hadn't even heard him come in. She was that preoccupied.
"Because I'm thinking the same thing; imagine living every day over again." Mai winced. Some had been heartbreaking. "But, I'm just happy we're here together now. I would not change one thing." He touched his scar, some reflex that had not faded with time's passage.
"Me too." Mai took one final look at the portrait, giving her fifteen year old self a smirk.