Epilogue
When Sokka is closest to Toph, it might well be said that they brought out the worst of each other, and the best of each other, and that despite a lack of any destiny it could seem impossible to consider it turning any other way.
Power and impotence, perspective and a lack of it, patience and exasperation. Unless it was their willingness for simultaneous immaturity, whatever one seemed to have, the other could be counted upon to lack. Was it compensation, that on some level one felt the need to be what the other was not, to bring some sort of balance? Or was it subversion, a feeling that the only proper response to one's pride and arrogance or just plain over-maturity was to bring them down a peg?
Did they moderate each other, or merely fan the flames?
It wasn't something so banal as a child's first crush, or a simple flattery, or love-by-last-availability. It wasn't anything convoluted or complex beyond all comprehension. Whatever it turned into later, it didn't start as. What it started as was positively simple.
Forget the rules. They had fun together.
After the war, Sokka continued his journey with his friend Toph, who remained incapable of returning home for any extended period of time before breaking out in boredom. Instead the two continued traveling the world, sometimes with their friends on important quests and adventures, sometimes not, and always getting themselves into (and out of) trouble along the way. Many an inn or a tavern can recount a tale of some mischief and considerable property damage the duo became known for, and many more would claim so as their legend grew over the years.