I catch his eyes wander to mine, and sprinkle. Suddenly, I see a tear beginning to form. Quickly, I swallow the food in my mouth and wipe off the crumbs, set my plate aside on our bedside table and lock my lips against his. We close our eyes together, and our hands find each other. Slowly, our fingers interlock tightly, and I pull him down on top of me.
This is all to keep him from being upset, because I know nothing warms his heart more than holding me in his arms. One time, I remember him telling me that when he first saw me, he just wanted to hold me in his arms, but he couldn't because I was too young for him, and under the age of consent. I knew I wanted him to, but then no one would treat me the same. But then, I turned seventeen, and everything changed. I was an adult, practically. He did me the hugest favor and put me in a better school than the one I used to go to, with the little money Mako made. Then, by doing so, he did Mako a huge favor by leaving more money for himself. I couldn't thank him enough. So not only have I gotten a great education because of him, but now Mako has a lighter load to carry by himself.
He stops to breathe, and then goes back to kissing me. But, before he does, I stop him with a hand of mine. "Wait." I tell him. "I want to talk to you."
"Go ahead."
"I wanted to assure that you will come back from the war alive. You're so perfect at everything you do. How could you be so worried?" I ask him, and pout.
He sighs. "It's because I have to be around all the people I hate.." he said, and hang his head in shame, like there was something bad about having an opinion towards people. "I know what you're thinking. You're thinking I shouldn't be so self-shaming. But it's different. These are my family, and I just hate them, more than anything. If any of them were to find out, they'd be crushed." he explained.
"But I thought your mother already knew?" I question him.
"Knew I was tired of being Prince, yes. She doesn't know the real reason, though. It isn't because of Iroh the first. It's because of.. all of them. I just despise everything about them. Does that make sense?"
I look down, and pout. "I understand." I tell him. "But you still love me, right?" I ask him, feeling like the child I was, the day my mother and father died. She told me a secret that day, and I told her I loved her. And then, she told me to leave the room, and I did. I remember nothing else.
He chuckled, and then planted his lips on top of mine again. "Does that answer your question?" he asked, when he stopped to breathe.
For an answer, I just nod, and smile wide.