HOME | DD

Description
I totally forgot about this.

There was an Avatar_Exchange on LJ way back around christmas. I don't remember who I got, but I know they requested Azula/Aang. I made this and then wrote a little drabble-thing.

The posts all got a little messed up and delayed and so WHATEVER. It's months later and I'm posting this now.

I'll try and dig up the drabble that goes with it too.

---

Theirs is not a love story.

Sometimes in the dark of the night, he still bolts upright. Panics and screams and thanks the stars that he’s not dead – that Katara’s not dead – that SokkaTophTeoHaruTheDuke aren’t dead. Because he can’t say the same for Yue. Or Jet. Or Suki.

(and he knows it hurts Sokka most of all, because he loved most of them most of all and it fits see?)

Once, she touched his cheek. Not in the loving, gentle kind of way that Katara touches his cheek, but just a brush against it as he dived out of the way of a lightening attack. Her fingers were cold and her nails left little marks in his skin. Just enough to raise the flesh. Just enough to remind him that she was following.

Sometimes in the dark of the night, he still bolts upright. And he doesn’t scream. But wonders, distantly, before falling back to sleep.

How far away is she now?

He touches his cheek and doesn’t panic, but waits.

Description
I totally forgot about this.

There was an Avatar_Exchange on LJ way back around christmas. I don't remember who I got, but I know they requested Azula/Aang. I made this and then wrote a little drabble-thing.

The posts all got a little messed up and delayed and so WHATEVER. It's months later and I'm posting this now.

I'll try and dig up the drabble that goes with it too.

---

Theirs is not a love story.

Sometimes in the dark of the night, he still bolts upright. Panics and screams and thanks the stars that he’s not dead – that Katara’s not dead – that SokkaTophTeoHaruTheDuke aren’t dead. Because he can’t say the same for Yue. Or Jet. Or Suki.

(and he knows it hurts Sokka most of all, because he loved most of them most of all and it fits see?)

Once, she touched his cheek. Not in the loving, gentle kind of way that Katara touches his cheek, but just a brush against it as he dived out of the way of a lightening attack. Her fingers were cold and her nails left little marks in his skin. Just enough to raise the flesh. Just enough to remind him that she was following.

Sometimes in the dark of the night, he still bolts upright. And he doesn’t scream. But wonders, distantly, before falling back to sleep.

How far away is she now?

He touches his cheek and doesn’t panic, but waits.