Sorrow and Sadness
"Zuko, its okay…" Katara lied as she reached out to hold his arm and put a hand on his back. But nothing was okay. Ozai had killed his mother, banished him, made him search for the avatar, restored his honor, and took it away again. Just because Zuko didn't agree with something he said about his subjects. Nothing was okay if that happened—nothing at all.
Zuko just kept sobbing, tears stinging at his gold eyes, yet not coming out. One of his pale hands was covering both his eyes, massaging his tear ducks. No. No. No! he kept thinking. Mom's alive… she is…. But he knew he was wrong. He knew what he heard. No one would say such a thing of their Fire Lady.
Impulse took over. The banished prince grabbed his friend's back, hugging her desperately, burying hid head in her chest, seeking the comfort he knew she could give. The comfort he knew he needed. The comfort he wanted from her, and only her. The comfort he knew Mai would never give. The comfort his father hadn't the heart to give. The comfort his mother gave off once. The comfort Katara gave off was so much stronger, so much more prudent, so much more than a mother's love. It was the comfort he longed for, the comfort he needed right now. The stinging tears rolled out over his molten gold eyes, drenching his cheeks in the sticky water.
Katara, shocked, did nothing. Waiting. Deciding. Do or don't. She choose the best one, the one she so badly wanted to do. Do, she thought. The waterbender wrapped one arm around his back, the other gripped his hair, pulling him closer, not wanting his heat to go away. Wanting to comfort him the only way she knew how—hugging, just hugging. She rested her head on his wishing that its weight would stop his painful tears. Because, as they hurt him, they hurt her.
Her own ocean eyes rimmed with the sticky tears as she looked up to the moon. Yue, she thought. But her thoughts overlapped themselves. Thoughts of her mother, thoughts of her Gran-Gran—who she left behind in her quest with the avatar and her own brother—thoughts of her father—La knows where he is—thoughts of her cousins and her mother's brothers. They all overlapped each other, running into each other. She held him closer, her own tears running to her throat as if in a race.
The two sat stayed there, hugging, on the foaming shore. Holding each other as if their lives depending on it; their hands getting tighter and tighter, pulling each other closer and closer, yet never thinking it close or tight enough.
Tell me what you think. Please! I know its short, but I think its sort and sweet.
This one-shot was inspired by Sadness and Sorrow, by *GreenifyME, on deviantART. It made me cry when I saw it. My throat still closes up a bit.
R&R please. Thank you.
(Link [tell me if you can't see it and I'll past it on my profile]: .com/?q=zutara&order=9&offset=96#/d1h5ts5)
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