Any Random Thing

You wake up, but don't open your eyes yet.  You had been having such a nice dream.  Then you feel it.  A warm, comforting weight.   You open your eyes. 

Sunlight is hitting the tent.  Birds can be heard chirping outside.  It doesn't sound like anyone else is awake yet.  You glance down and see Toph's arm draped securely over your waist, her other arm still underneath your head.  You can feel one of her legs has tangled with yours during the night.  It wasn't a dream.  You smile sleepily, feeling happier than you've felt in a long time. Slowly, you turn your head just enough to look at Toph's sleeping face.  You can't help but stare.  Her hair is delightfully messy from sleep, her breathing making stray strands blow softly from her face.  The curl of her eyelashes.  Her lips slightly parted.  The faint pulse at her neck.  You turn your head back and carefully rest your hand over hers.  Her hand gently squeezes your waist, still half buried in dreams.  You savour the moment, feeling her arm around you, feeling her chest move with her breathing against your back, the nearly imperceptible twitch of her fingers. After a moment, you reach out to your water cup.  As you reach back out to return it to its place, you feel another small squeeze at your waist.  Toph shifts slightly, and you hear her murmur, "Stay . . ." You smile, and whisper, "Clingy," just loud enough for yourself to hear. "Shush." You laugh quietly.  "I thought you were asleep." "I was."  Her voice is adorably rough with sleep. "Morning." "Mm." "Sleep well?" "Best sleep I've had in forever." You know you're beaming.  "Really?" "Mhm."  There's a short pause.  She tightens her hold around you, bringing you back into her chest.  "Didn't realise this would be so comfortable." "It is . . .," you lightly rub your thumb over her hand.  "You never let go." She goes quiet.  "It felt really nice . . . You were the first thing I felt when I woke up," you say softly. You feel her forehead press into the back of your neck.  "I woke up once during the night," she says.  "And . . ." "Yeah?" She laughs.  It's a shy laugh that makes your heart melt.  "I, uh . . . moved my arm to scratch my nose, and . . . you grabbed my hand." "I did?" "You were completely asleep.  But . . . You reached back until you found me."  She laces her fingers with yours, just as she had the night before. You close your eyes contentedly.  "What can I say, Tophee Nut, I guess I like you or something." She scoffs.  "Well, I'm not mad about it." You roll over carefully, slowly enough that she has time to adjust.  Now you're facing each other.  Her arm hasn't moved from around your waist.  You gaze into her face.  ". . . Hi." A small puff of air escapes her nose in a quiet laugh.  "Hi." You reach up to brush a few strands of hair out of her face.  Her eyes close at your touch.  You follow the curve of her brow and settle your hand to cup her face, gently rubbing her cheek with your thumb.  Her eyes open a little, drowsily, the hazy green peeking out from under her lashes. " Wow . . .," you breathe. Her brow furrows slightly.  "What?" You feel your face flush.  ". . . You're really pretty . . . " She squeezes her eyes shut as if she's been hit.  "It's too early for you to do that." You laugh, "Do what?" "Say things that make my brain stop working," she grumbles, leaning her forehead against yours. The blunt honesty makes your chest ache.  Smiling, you bring her in for a kiss.  It's soft, lingering, still tinged with dreams.  Her eyes stay closed after you break away.  She lets out a small huff, a smirk playing on her lips.  "Come back," she whispers. "See?  Clingy," you grin, but happily oblige. 

"Yeah?"

It's the end of another day of training.  It has been a hot day, and the training has not helped with the heat.  Both of you are flushed, sweaty, hair disheveled, but it was a good day.  You have only been improving, and you are starting to bend metal on the first try now.  You and Toph are drinking water by the barrel, chatting.

"We were asked about another mission.  Wanna go?" Toph asks, splashing the last of her water over her head to cool off.

"Of course!" you agree immediately.  "What is it this time?"

"It should be simple.  Some bandits have been terrorising a village.  They want us to find their hideout, and, if possible, bring forward their leader."

You feel slightly queasy, remembering the trouble you had gotten yourself into the last time you faced a gang of miscreants.  Toph can clearly feel your anxiety, and grabs your hand.  "Hey," she says sternly, "You'll be okay.  You did great last time, and you're only getting better."

You nod your head silently, adding a soft, "Yeah . . .," so she can hear you agree.

"We won't let anything bad happen to you.  I won't let anything bad happen to you."  You can hear her voice shake slightly as her hand grips yours more firmly. 

You know how helpless she had felt when you had been snatched away.  You're determined not to fall victim again.  You pull her hand towards you so that she steps closer.  "I know.  I've also had a great instructor helping me hone my skills," you say teasingly, lifting a hand to the back of her neck, bringing her in for a kiss.

Her face grows warm, and you feel her smile.  "I can't argue with that," she boasts.

Toph then falls into an unusual, nervous silence, tossing the cup from one hand to another with practised ease.  "So . . .," she begins.  "I was wondering . . .  You don't have to answer now or anything, but . . ."  She runs a hand through her hair, making it even messier.

You wait patiently, smiling at her nervousness.  You find it incredibly adorable, although she would never admit that's what she was feeling.  She lets out a breath.  "Did you . . . want to share a tent this time?"  Her cheeks have acquired that rosy complexion you've come to adore when she gets flustered.

Your smile widens.  "Share a tent?  With you?"

She bites her bottom lip, one ear tilted towards you, awaiting your answer.

You laugh.  "I'd love nothing better!"

"Yes!"

She lets out another breath.  Relief.  Suddenly, she grabs you around the waist and pulls you to her.  Now it's your face that's burning, your lips inches from each other.  "Some ground rules," she growls, in such a serious tone you start to feel nervous.

"O-okay . . . ?" you answer warily.

A slight pause as she glares at you.  Then her face breaks into a taunting smile.  "No stealing my blankets," she kisses you on the cheek, "No shoving ice-cold hands or feet on me," she kisses your other cheek, "And no farting," she finishes, kissing your lips. 

You laugh against her mouth, wrapping your arms around her neck.  "No promises," you chuckle, kissing the tip of her nose.

She lets out an exaggerated sigh.  "Or suffer the consequences!"

"Oh, I'm shaking!"

"Liar."

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As you make your way home, you feel light on your feet.  You'll be sharing a tent with Toph!  That feels like a pretty big step.  You also feel very anxious . . . You'll be sharing a tent with Toph!  What if you don't know how to fill the silence?  What if you make her regret asking to share with you?  . . . What if you did fart?!

You get home and lay on your bed for a while, trying to calm yourself.  Stop thinking of the worst that could happen! you lecture yourself.  What if everything goes right?

That almost makes you feel more anxious.  What will you do if it feels like more is expected?  Are you ready?  Is she?  What if you misread signals and make things uncomfortable for her?  Again, that stupid fear you have of ruining things.  You promise yourself you'll maintain a respectable distance unless shown otherwise.

Her shoulders relax at your apparent approval.  "You were too far last night," she grumbles.  "Got cold, you know . . ."

It's the second day of the mission with the gang.  Zuko has come along this time, due to the village being in his jurisdiction.  He wants to get to the bottom of who's wreaking havoc.

The upside to having a more set location means less walking/flying.  The group has been roving around the outskirts of the village, searching for any clues, or hoping to catch a glimpse of the bandits.   Everyone was setting up camp for the evening.  Toph had said she'd set up your tent so that you could set up the fire.  This turned out to be a silly suggestion, since there's now a firebender with you.  So you just use the spare time to catch up with Zuko.

You like him a lot.  He's funny without always meaning to be, a good listener, and he's very direct, which you appreciate in people.  He had smiled when he learnt you and Toph were together.  "Did she hang off your arm when she told you?" he had asked.  This earned a laugh from you, and a chucked pebble at the both of you from Toph.

"I hope we can catch these bandits soon," he was saying, after starting a good-sized fire.  You begin setting up the cooking supplies. 

"I don't want to be gone too long.  It's always nice to have a sort of break from all the strict routine and meetings, but then I feel like I just come back to a mountain of work."  He sighs, rubbing his head at the very thought.

"Do you ever get nostalgic when you're able to join up on missions?" you ask him.

A small smile crosses his face.  "Yeah . . . I can't say I miss it, but . . .," he glances around the camp.

Aang is laughing as Katara playfully whips his hand with a stream of water; he had been trying to sneak another slice of carrot from the pile she has been cutting for tonight's stew.  Appa is lazily grazing in the field while Momo sits on his head, eating a peach.  Sokka is sharpening and shining his boomerang, winking at his reflection in the sheen.  Toph emerges from the tent, her pinkie scratching inside her ear, a scowl on her face.

"I miss them," Zuko finishes, still smiling.

You smile, too.  You can only imagine the warmth he must feel for all of them.  You've only known them more than a year, and you like them all so much.  He had grown up with them in a time when they became his family when he needed it most.

You head to the tent to get ready for dinner (you want to put your comfier shoes on), giving Toph a light caress down her arm as you pass her.  You enter the tent and stop short.

The night before, you had set the tent up for you both.  Nervously, you had set your bedrolls apart, not wanting to appear too eager.  You didn't space them too far apart (you still wanted closeness, after all), but tonight, Toph had set it up so that your bedrolls essentially made one, big bed.

Toph enters the tent behind you, carrying in your packs.  "Everything okay?" she asks, nearly bumping into your frozen figure by the entrance.

"Y-yeah!  You made one bed," you reply nervously.

She sets the packs down.  You can see her shoulders have tensed slightly.  "Oh, did I?"

A slight smile pulls at the corners of your mouth.  You know as well as anyone that Toph doesn't make mistakes like that; she may be blind, but she can "see" better than most.  If she had put the beds together, it was because she wanted to.  Your stomach does a happy flip.

You chuckle.  "Yeah . . . I like it.  Looks comfy."

You walk up behind her, wrapping your arms around her waist, resting your chin on her shoulder.  You can see her pouting, trying to hide the flush of her face.  You kiss her cheek, softly muttering, "I didn't realise you got cold easily."

"I don't," she tries to scoff.  "Just . . . Can't let my hands get cold.  Old bending tip.  Blood flow and . . . stuff . . . complicated things."

You hold back a laugh.  "Well, at least you seem warm enough for now, since you're blushing."

"No evidence of that!" she protests, turning her head away.

You kiss her ear, "Your ears are warm again," you tease, giggling at her slight flinch.

"I will put your bedroll outside!" she retorts, her face growing redder as she dramatically wriggles out of your grasp.

But soon, you're both laughing as she flicks your forehead when you try to grab her again.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Later that night, you're feeling slightly anxious again.  You delay slightly by the fire by yourself, calming your nerves.  Toph had already gone in.  You fidget slightly with your shirt before finally deciding to head inside.  Toph was laying on one side of the merged bedrolls, bending some pebbles in the air, as she is wont to do when she's casually passing time.  You're unsure how close you should get, but, feeling brave, you get under the blankets and scooch over until your shoulder bumps hers.

A small smirk appears on her lips.  "Hey."

"Hey."  You settle into the covers, allowing your hand to land close to hers.

She sets the rocks she was fiddling with by her side on the floor, turns the lantern off and settles in as well.  Silence.  You're feeling almost too nervous to move because you suddenly feel very self-conscious of where to put your hands or feet.  Unbeknownst to you, Toph is silently fighting a war in her head, unsure herself on what to do next.  If only you could feel the nervous beat of her heart as well.

After a while, you feel her hand reach out to yours, touching your fingertips with hers.  "You awake?" she asks softly.

You move your hand to lace your fingers together.  "Mhm.  You, too, huh?"

"I was waiting."

"For what?"

"For you to stop pretending to be asleep."

You laugh quietly.  "I wasn't pretending."

"Liar."

"You caught me."

She lightly squeezes your hand.  Both of you are silent for a while, simply holding hands under the blanket.  You hear Toph clear her throat.  " . . . Can I ask you something?"

"Always," you reply, turning your head in her direction.

A slight pause.  "Can I try something?"

Your curiosity is piqued.  ". . . Of course."  You're not sure what to expect.

Another slight pause.  Somehow, you know that she's struggling to find the right words.  Finally, she bluntly says, "Move."

"What?"

"Like . . . Turn the other way."

You're confused, but you trust her.  "Okay . . .?"

You turn to your side, facing away from her.  You hear and feel the blankets rustle as she shifts closer.  Suddenly, an arm slides around your waist as her other arm curls under your head, creating a sort of pillow.  She pulls you into her chest, her knees locking in behind yours.  You can feel her nose slightly nuzzled against your neck.

"Oh," you whisper.

"Hm?"

" . . . This is nice."

"Mm." 

There's a moment of silence before you hear her murmer, "You're warm."

You smile.  "You're warm, too."

You shift closer into her without thinking, and she responds immediately by pulling you in tighter, her strong arms like iron bands.  It feels natural.  As if your body already knows where it belongs . . .  With whom it belongs . . .

"Now your hands won't be cold," you joke sleepily.

"Yeah.  Thank you for your service."  She sounds sleepier, too.

You were both starting to feel drowsy, feeling such comfort and warmth.

"I haven't done this before," she mutters.

"What?  Cuddled?"

"No, I've never been the . . . What is it?  The 'big ladle'?"

You snort at that.  "The 'big ladle'?"

She starts to laugh, "Is that not what it's called?"

You're shaking with silent laughter, your hand at your mouth.  "It's 'big spoon,' you dork."

Her breath feels hot on the back of your neck as she lets out another laugh.  "That sounds just as dumb!"

"I didn't name it!"

"Whoever did should be fired."

Both of you have a fit of giggles, borne from nervous tension, spilling out as you find the comfort in each other.  As the giggles die down, you feel her thumb tracing small circles against your stomach.  She doesn't even realise she's doing it.

"Comfortable?" you ask, grinning.

"Mhm."  Yet another pause before she adds, sleepily, "I like this.  I can feel your heartbeat."

"Yeah?"

"Little bit . . .," her hand moves up to your sternum, her fingers splaying out slightly.  "It's nice . . ."

You cover her hand with yours, leaning back into her a bit more.  Her hold tightens protectively. 

"Also . . .," her voice is getting raspy with sleep.  "I like knowing that if you wake up in the night . . .," her fingers intertwine with yours, still over your sternum and the beating of your heart.  "The first thing you'll feel . . .," a gentle squeeze, "Is me."

Your breath hitches as your heart swells so much it almost hurts.  In barely a whisper, you reply, "You feel safe . . . "

There's another moment of silence.  Then, very lightly, so soft that you could miss it, you feel something brush against your shoulder.

"Was that a kiss?"

"Sh."

You smile into the darkness, little butterflies must be joining the beat of your heart. 

As Toph's breathing gets slower, you feel yourself drifting as well.  Warm.  Secure.  Grounded.  Before you fully fall asleep, you nestle yourself just a little more into her arms.  Her warmth carries you off into sweet dreams. 

You fidget with the hem of your shirt as you walk. You're heading to Toph's living quarters on the Academy grounds. You know where it is, but have never actually been inside it. She has invited you over for tea and to just hang out.

It has been about a week since your first date (and that head-spinning makeout session), and you can't help but feel nervous, even still.

It's obvious Toph likes you - as guarded as she may be with her emotions, she's still blunt about what she wants - but you still have that lingering doubt in the back of your mind. A niggling worry that, at any moment, you could make a wrong move and screw everything up. You really like Toph. A lot. And you're terrified of being "too much," or being seen as trying to move too fast.

Your eyes squeeze shut for a second, trying to shake the memory of a past unrequited love. You had misread signs back then. You had scared them off, it seemed. They weren't even into women. Stupid, you reprimand yourself. Then you scold yourself again, for allowing you to even dwell on it.

Toph's different, you argue. For one thing, even if she's not into women, she's into you. That should be all that matters.

Before you know it, you've arrived at her door. You hesitate for a second, giving your nerves time to leave your body. However, before you can even lift your hand to knock, the door opens.

"Just in time, Tumble, the tea's ready," Toph says. She smirks at your startled silence. "I heard your footsteps, " she adds as explanation, giving you a swift kiss in greeting.

Of course.

What she doesn't tell you is how she anxiously awaited your arrival, debating if opening the door too soon would appear too eager, or if waiting until you knocked would appear too blasé. If you had had the sensitive seismic sense she possessed, you would have noticed her heartbeat pick up its pace.

You walk into her space, taking it in. It was simple. Humble. You always knew Toph, despite coming from extreme wealth, preferred to live minimally. She found comfort in the simple pleasures rather than the grandiose. The entrance led into the living room, with the kitchen to the right. Instead of a regular couch or chair, there was a tatami base with a futon sat against the wall, draped in blankets and pillows, small side tables on either side. Almost every other surface was stone, including the floor. Not surprising.

What was surprising was what was in front of the lounge area. A television. Aside from the obvious, it was surprising to see because it was still a very new technology that few had in their homes. It was the only item of obvious luxury in the place.

"Huh . . .," you accidentally let slip.

You hear a chortle behind you as Toph closes the door. "The television, right?"

"Uh . . . !" you feel your face flush, embarrassed. You frantically think of something else to comment on. "No, the . . . the seating arrangement! It's different."

She snickers, but humours you. "What can I say? I like being close to the ground. I can always tell what's going on around me. My bed's the same way, I dunno how anyone can sleep on those floating marshmallows."

You laugh, your stomach doing a ridiculous flip at the mention of a bed. Grow up! you scold yourself again.

"But seriously, the television can be nice background noise, and sometimes I get the news that way," she shrugs.

You laugh nervously. "Makes sense. It's cool, I haven't really seen a personal one."

She nods towards the seating area. "Go ahead and get comfy, I'll bring the tea."

You reach the futon and awkwardly sit. You're not sure how casual you should lay; should you take up as little space as possible, to give her room, if she wanted, or should you just sit normally to show how definitely calm and not nervous you still were? You settle on staying close to an edge, one arm propped on a pillow, leaning back on the others. You can't help but notice how nice the blankets and pillows smell. They smell like her . . .

Toph comes back with two cups and a pot of jasmine tea. She sets the pot and your cup on the side table closest to you. To your pleasant surprise, she comfortably settles in close to you with her own cup. Her shoulder and leg are pressed against yours. You can feel how warm she is.

Hanging out comes effortlessly. You both talk, drink, and banter as easily as ever, even with the subtle undercurrent of nervous tension. Before you even know how it happened, she has an arm draped across your waist, her face comfortably nuzzled into your shoulder, your hand she's laying on gently rests on her head. A content smile on her lips.

With only brief hesitation, you begin stroking her hair as you both continue to talk. She immediately melts into you, almost instinctively.

Her hair is incredibly soft, which is almost surprising, considering how often Toph is covered in dust and dirt from training. You absently run your fingers through her hair as there's a small moment of silence.

" . . . Mm."

You momentarily freeze at the contented sound. Your heart swells at the realization that Toph has allowed herself to be completely unguarded while with you. Usually, she acted like someone who always expected the world to need something from her.

"Someone's comfy," you tease, continuing your flow through her soft strands.

"Don't ruin it."

"I meant me. But you did make a happy sound."

"I'll deny it."

"Can't deny audio evidence."

"No other witnesses."

You laugh. You feel her tighten her hold around your waist. "I really like your laugh," she murmurs, almost to herself.

You can feel your face flush, and you're not quite sure what to say. You continue to gently comb through her hair. Then your fingers accidentally brush the edge of her ear.

She jerks. Not violently, but enough to give you pause.

"Oh - sorry, did I hurt you?" you ask softly.

"No." The answer comes too fast.

"You sure? You practically jumped."

"I definitely didn't."

You blink, quiet for a second, thinking. Then . . . very carefully, you lightly brush her ear with your fingertips again.

Toph inhales sharply.

Oh.

Oh.

You stop moving, a mischievous smile forming on your face.

"Toph . . .," you say slowly.

"No."

"You're sensitive there."

"That's funny because I'm not."

Her voice sounds tight. Defensive. Which means you're completely correct.

"You got flustered," you say, trying not to laugh.

"Nope!"

You laugh softly. Toph never gets flustered. Seeing her this way is almost too much for you to handle maturely. You're simultaneously amused and enamored with this discovery. This time, your fingers gently grab her earlobe, your thumb lightly caressing. She clutches at the middle of your shirt, burying her face deeper into your shoulder.

". . . You're unbelievable," she grumbles.

"Do you hate this?"

"No . . .," she mutters. "I hate that you noticed."

You grin. You see her face has acquired a slight rosy complexion.

"You're blushing."

"You can't prove that."

"Your ears are warm."

"Spirits . . . "

You shift slightly, tilting your head towards hers. You plant a soft kiss just beneath her ear. She tenses, letting out a shaky breath, the hand clutching your shirt briefly tightens.

"Oh," you whisper.

"Shut up."

"That really affects you."

"You're banned from talking."

You kiss the spot again. Teasing. Lingering.

She actually shivers. You can feel it run through her, impossible for her to cover up. She buries her face in your neck, as if trying to hide.

"You're evil," she groans. You can feel her lips brushing your neck as she speaks.

You laugh again, but go back to stroking her hair.

"That's really cute," you smile.

"Take it back."

"No."

"Don't get smug about it."

"I would never."

"You're smiling, I can hear it."

"Oh, absolutely I am."

"I hate you."

"No, you don't."

"Yeah . . .," she mutters into your neck. "That's kind of the problem."

The warmth that spreads in your chest is nearly overwhelming. Your other hand cups her face, placing one last kiss onto her ear. Gentle. Affectionate. There's no teasing this time, you just genuinely find it charming.

She tilts her head up slightly, kissing just beneath your jawline. "You can't tell anyone about this," she grumbles.

"I couldn't possibly."

"Sokka especially. If he finds out I have a weakness he can taunt me for, I'll have to kill him."

"Seems a little extreme."

"It'd be warranted."

You chuckle, and you both stay silent, simply enjoying each other's touch and presence. You go back to languidly running your fingers through her hair. Soon, you notice something has changed. Her breathing has deepened. The hand clutching your shirt has slackened.

You slowly turn to look at her face. She's asleep. She looks younger, somehow, when she's sleeping. Softer. Still strong, but . . . unguarded and completely relaxed. Her hair is slightly messy where your fingers have run through it.

Your heart melts. Because sleep means trust. It means vulnerability. It means letting someone stay close when all your defenses are down.

There's a difference in the trust of sleeping together in a camp, and sleeping right next to someone.

You smile to yourself, trying not to move much, completely enjoying the intimacy of the moment. You carefully rest your cheek against the top of her head. Your eyes begin to droop, and you're feeling yourself begin to doze off as well. Then, half-asleep, Toph murmurs something. So quiet, you almost miss it.

"Don't go far . . . "

Your chest tightens. You place a soft kiss on her forehead, whispering, "I won't."

She makes a small noise of approval and settles even closer. As if your voice alone was enough to reassure her that everything was okay. That she was safe.

And there, in the darkening living room, with Toph Beifong asleep in your arms, and trusting you enough to stay there, you realize . . . This may be the safest you have ever felt, too.

The afternoon sun is growing dim, shadows lengthening around the training arena.  You and Toph are training alone, getting back to it after a couple days’ rest upon returning from the dragon poacher mission.

Once again, she’s coaching you with metalbending.  Despite your impressive feat with the metal cocoon during the mission, you still had some trouble getting the metal to move immediately.

“Stance wider,” Toph criticizes, nudging the inside of one of your ankles with her foot.

“Stop trying to muscle it,” she scolds.  “You’re treating it like it’s a stubborn boulder.  Steel isn’t a rock.  It’s refined.  It’s focused.  You need to find the impurities.  The little bits of earth crying out for someone to notice them.”

You wipe the sweat from your brow.  “I’m trying.  I just don’t quite feel that space you’re talking about.”

You’re feeling slightly discouraged.  Toph can tell.

She walks over to you.  “That’s because your stance is wrong.  You’re braced for a landslide, not a conversation.”

“ . . . What?”

She moves behind you.  You can feel the heat radiating off her, the scent of her soap mixed with dust wafting over you.  Then, she reaches around you, her strong hands gripping your forearms, guiding your arms up slightly.  Her chest is pressed against your back, and you can feel the steady beat of her heart.

“Relax your shoulders,” she whispers in your ear.  Your face immediately feels warm. 

“Close your eyes,” she murmurs.  “Stop looking with your head.  Feel the vibration of the metal through me.”

She shifts her weight, guiding your body along with her, like a dance.  Her hands slid down to cover yours, squeezing them slightly, forming them into a “hook,” as if guiding you to grab on to invisible threads.

“Do you feel that?” she asks, her voice dropping to a gravelly, intimate low.  “That tiny, jagged pulse right in the center?  That’s the earth hiding inside the iron.  It’s waiting for you.”

Despite how flustered you’re feeling, you do feel the change in how the metal feels in front of you.  Less solid, more like liquid. 

“I feel it,” you breathe, feeling a glimmer of excitement.

“Good,” Toph says.  “Now, don’t just push it.  Demand it.  Move with me.”

With a sharp, synchronized motion, Toph guides your hands in a crushing gesture.  The steel plate in front of you groans, the sound of shrieking metal echoing through the arena as the plate crumples like a piece of parchment. 

“We did it!” you exclaim, marveling at where the now crushed plate lay.

“Nope,” smirks Toph, still standing right behind you.  “That was all you.  I just helped you find it.  You weren’t trusting it.”

“The metal?”

“You.”

You glance back towards her, her face inches from yours.  A smile plays on your lips.  “This feels familiar . . . “

Toph scoffs, planting a quick kiss on your jawline before straightening up.  “Stay focused.  Once you get used to feeling that call within the metal, it gets easier every time.  You won’t have to be so strict with your stance then.”

You help clear the area before you both grab water from the barrel near the sidelines.  A spigot at the bottom releases cool water into your cups.  Toph takes a long swig before casually asking, “Are you busy tomorrow night?”

“No,” you reply, eyeing her curiously.

“You are now,” she says, grinning.

“Did you just hijack my evening?”

“Yep!  No need to dress fancy,” she adds, waving her hand dismissively.

You can feel yourself blushing.  As usual, Toph is not one for grand gestures, or polished, heartfelt proposals, but you like it that way.  It feels so much more casual and easy . . . it feels real.

“I’ll get you at nine,” she says, finishing her cup.

“Bit late, isn’t it?” you ask.  It’s not a complaint.  Your curiosity is piqued.

That crooked grin again.  Spirits, it makes your stomach do a flip. 

“It’s necessary.”  She doesn’t elaborate.  “I’ll meet you then.  I have some things I need to prep for some incoming students.”

Before she turns to leave, her hand cups the side of your face, guiding you into a soft kiss. 

“Hey . . .,” she mutters, “Your heartbeat’s cute when you’re flustered.”

You huff, playfully shoving her arm away.

One last, smug smirk, and she walks off towards her office.  You watch her go, admiring her confident stride, your face burning.

----------------------------------------------------------------

You trip slightly over an uneven cobblestone as you blindly walk through a maze of dark alleyways.  Toph’s hand grasps yours as she leads you, momentarily pausing to ensure you don’t fall, pulling you into her shoulder so you don’t stumble forward.  She had insisted it was best to walk under the cover of darkness.  Easy for her to say.

“Is where we’re going illegal or something?” you ask, only half joking. 

“No.  It’s just . . . unregulated,” she replies.  You can hear the mischief in her voice.

“Damn, I didn’t wear my running shoes, in case we get raided.”

She snorts, giving your hand a small squeeze.

Although you’ve lived in Yu Dao for years, this dark side is unfamiliar.  It doesn’t feel dangerous.  It feels mysterious and exciting.

Suddenly, Toph stops short.  You’re facing a large, metal door set into what appears to be a nondescript warehouse.  Toph takes out a small stone she had stored in her pocket.  A quick flick of her wrist sends the stone banging against the door.  You notice that it seems to play a specific tune with every flick of her wrist.

There’s the sound of a large bolt being slid across the door.  It opens, revealing a surprisingly loud cacophony that had been insulated by what you assume are the thick walls of the place.  A stairway leads even deeper underground, where all the light and noise are emanating from.

You descend the stairs into what looks like a hidden cavern turned into a private arena.  It wasn’t flashy, like the professional, televised Pro-Bending tournaments.  This was old-school: just a circle of compacted earth and a few dozen spectators who knew how to keep a secret.

“The Blind Bandit returns!” boomed an inebriated voice near the entrance.

“Can it, Gopher!” Toph shouts back, pointing to the man menacingly, although she was grinning.

The man laughed raucously, lifting his tankard in cheers to her.

She leads you through the small crowd, her grip still firm on your hand.  You arrive at an empty table close to the ring.   You have a sneaking suspicion that, by unspoken rule, this was reserved for her.  Someone had already set up a bottle of fire whiskey and two bowls of spicy noodles.

She sits you down so you’re facing the arena more fully, clearly not minding having her back to it.  “Dig in!” she smiles, handing you a pair of chopsticks.

As you eat, an announcement booms throughout the cavern, introducing the first two fighters.  Someone called The Red Baron, the other, The Rogue Rooster.  Cheers echo across the arena.

“I thought you hated crowds?” you inquire, leaning close so she can better hear you.

“I hate large, bustling crowds.  These guys aren’t too bad.  Everyone has a respect for the matches.  They always seem to cheer at just the right times.  Besides,” she reaches out her hands to grasp yours, “I want you to feel what I feel.”

As the match went on, Toph kept her feet flat on the ground.  Every time one of the benders hit the floor, it sent shockwaves through the ground, travelling to your table, up your chair legs, through your clasped hands, and into your very bones.  There was a reason this table was so close to the action.

“Do you feel that?” Toph asks excitedly, leaning in towards your ear.  “The one called The Red Baron, he’s too heavy on his left side.  He’s going to fall in three, two – “

CRASH!

You feel the vibration up to your jaw.  The excitement in the air is palpable and intoxicating.  It’s the most peaceful chaos you have ever experienced. 

Occasionally, as the matches go on, Toph narrates little things she’s feeling and noticing.  Although you’re facing the arena, you haven’t glanced towards it once.  You focus on Toph’s face, enraptured by her narration, smitten with her excitement, and willing yourself to see the matches the way she experiences them. 

You can sense the great intimacy in her sharing how she views the world.  Someone who usually acts like she has no disability.

In the lull between matches, you chat and laugh, imbibing in the fire whiskey, the noodles long gone.  As the last match was ending, Toph’s thumbs traced small circles on the backs of your hands. 

“You know,” she said, her voice uncharacteristically soft, “most people see the world in colours and shapes.  But to me, it’s all rhythm.  It’s a song.  And you . . .,” she gave your hands a slight squeeze.  “Your rhythm is becoming my favourite part of the track.”

-------------------------------------------------------------

The cool, night air feels nice against your flushed face, hot from fire whiskey, a good time, and great company.  You both continue to chat and laugh as you walk to your apartment.

When you reach the entrance to your building, you turn to Toph, smiling.  “That was a really fun time.  Thank you for taking me.  It was nice . . . seeing your world.”

“Yeah, no problem,” she replies, a hint of shyness sneaking into her tone.  She clears her throat, trying to hide the shyness with her usual bravado.  “It was nothing.  Just thought you could use a peek at some real fun in this city.”

Perhaps it’s the fire whiskey making you bold, but before you can hesitate, you grab both sides of the collar of her shirt with your hands, pulling her into a kiss.  Toph’s eyes widen in surprise, but she quickly recovers, moving her hands to your waist.

The kiss tastes of spices and evening air.  She backs you up until you hit the stone wall of your building, her body pressing into yours.  One of her hands migrates from your waist to the back of your neck, her fingers curling into your hair.  She breaks the kiss for a second, her breath coming in shallow, jagged hitches.

“I can feel your heart,” she whispers, her breath hot against your neck.  “It’s pounding so hard, I can feel it through the soles of my feet.  It’s . . . chaotic.  I like it.”

The kiss deepens.  Her hand at your waist slides just beneath the hem of your shirt.  Her fingers are warm, a stark contrast to the cold stone at your back.  It’s a blur of shared breath and low groans. 

Toph never does anything “soft.”  She kisses you with a hungry, possessive edge, her teeth occasionally catching your lower lip in a way that makes your head spin.  Every time you make a noise – a soft gasp, or a quiet moan – she leans into it, her senses registering the way your muscles hummed with pleasure.

You both stop to catch your breath, foreheads resting on each other. 

“This night ended better than I could have hoped,” she breathed.  Her eyes were closed, a small, triumphant smirk playing on her face.

You laugh softly, nudging her nose with yours, your hands now resting on her shoulders.  “Who’d have thought The Great Toph Beifong could court a girl so thoughtfully?”

“Yeah, well, don’t expect flowers or anything tomorrow.  I’m still a tough guy, you know.”

“Oh, but of course!  I wouldn’t dare.”

She plants a light kiss on your forehead before breaking away, allowing you to finally enter your building.  As she strides off, you can hear her whistling a soft tune that seems to follow the rhythm of your heart.

Darkness.  Muffled voices.  Your head hurts.  You feel woozy.

You blearily open your eyes, and your stomach drops at the scene.   You have no idea where you could be, and you don’t see any of your friends.  You look around at the rocky walls, unable to tell if you’re in a cave, or a building.  The walls hint at a cave, but there are metal support beams throughout.

You shake your head, trying to focus.  This must be another mine.  You know there are a lot in this area, and it would make sense as a hideout.  Looking around, you see a large cage.  You squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head again, not quite believing what you’re seeing: a small, red dragon.

The poor thing looks half-starved and weak.  A leather strap is wrapped tightly around its eyes, where you can tell it has been chafing, judging by what looks like dried blood on the edges. Raw skin peeks out from underneath.

Long shadows flicker on the walls to your left.  Someone has built a fire, and you count at least seven shadows.  Pretty outnumbered . . .

You realize your wrists are tied behind your back, and your ankles lashed together.  A moment of struggling proves to be quite futile against your ties.  Mind racing, you try to think of your next move.

“Ah, awake, huh?” a voice comes from behind you.

You whip your head around, and catch a glimpse of the grizzled, bearded man sitting on an overturned mine cart.  He has clearly been watching for when you awaken.  You don’t say anything, but you continue trying to surreptitiously loosen your bonds. 

“You’ll be a little groggy,” he says, holding up a container that rattled dully as he shook it.  “Shirshu-laced projectiles.  Knocks almost anyone out.  Nice, huh?”

You scowl at him, not answering.  You want him to leave because you think you could get your hands out in front of you. 

“I’m sure your group will be looking for us,” he continues.  “Predictable, really.  But while we wait, I thought maybe you could help us with some info.”

His words are met with silence.

The man chuckles.  “You’ll tell us eventually.  Everyone does.  We just want to know how best to take on the Avatar.  You travel with him . . . you must know some of his weaknesses.  The non-bender should be easy enough.  But maybe you can also share how to dry up the water-bender?  Or crush the earthbender?”

You glower at him, still saying nothing.

The man unsheathes a jagged knife.  Apprehensively, you look at it, but remain quiet.  He walks to you, and pushes it up against your left ear.  You wince as you feel the blade dig into your tragus.  You think you feel a trickle of blood run down your jaw.  The man is breathing heavily.  “Most people talk after they lose an ear . . . “

“Rolf!” another man calls, closer to where the fire seemed to be.  “They saw movement.  I think they’re already coming.”

The grizzled man clicks his tongue.  Disappointed.  He keeps his knife out, but removes it from your ear.  “Don’t even try to get out of here.  Any sudden movements with your bending will send this ceiling crashing down on you.  We’ll make sure of it.” 

He moves to follow the other man towards what you assume is the mouth of the tunnel.  He stops for a second, grinning at you.  “And let’s hope your friends don’t try anything crazy . . . or they’ll bury you themselves.”

The minute he’s gone, you roll onto your back, struggling into a seated position.  With some difficulty, you manage to get your hands to your front.  You still can’t untie the binds on your wrists (chafing now, with all your movements), but you’re able to loosen and then slip the ropes on your ankles.

You can hear distant shouts.  Were they really here?  Could you risk trying to walk out?  The words of the grizzled man – Rolf – echo in your head.  Would they send the ceiling down on you if they caught you trying to escape?  You could probably earthbend it away from you, but you’ve never really tried with so many pounds of rock . . .

Almost as if on cue, you hear a loud bang, and some rock tumbles from the ceiling, pelting the floor.  Heart racing, you look around for an escape route.  Suddenly, you hear a sad moan.  The dragon.  It’s clawing at the ground of its cage, nervously, hearing the commotion outside.  You can’t leave it.

You walk towards it, trying to see if there is a way to open the cage.  In the back of your mind, you also know there’s no way to predict how the dragon will act once freed.  Another loud noise, and more bits of the ceiling crumble to the ground.  You’re running out of time. 

You look around at the metal support beams, some scattered on the ground, old carts placed here and there . . .  You could form a shield over the both of you.  With your hands tied, it would be difficult, but your legs were free . . . You’ve seen Toph use her feet to control earth and metal before.  But was that too advanced?  You hadn’t quite reached that territory yet.

You can hear the shouts getting louder, but that also means the ceiling is becoming more and more unstable with the results of the battle outside.  If it was true that the poachers would send the tunnel into collapse, you were definitely short on time.

Desperately, you sit back down next to the cage, spreading out your feet and holding out your hands.  “Come on . . .,” you grumble, willing the metal beams on the floor to move.  At first, nothing.  “Come on!” you growl.  They begin to shift.  You focus on your breathing and your movements.

Without warning, you can hear Rolf shout, “They’re too close!  Bring it down!”

A deafening sound in your ears, as the tunnel begins to tremble.  Concentrating hard, gritting your teeth, you continue to will the metal to move towards you.  The ceiling begins to fall in larger chunks.  You give an anguished shout of exertion as the ceiling starts to fully collapse.

You are plunged into darkness.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Your ears are ringing.  You can’t see.  Someone is shouting and shaking your shoulders.  For the second time that day, you blearily open your eyes. 

The first thing you see is Toph’s face, scrunched up in distress.  Behind her, you can see the outlines of the rest of your friends.  You give a weak smile.  “Hey, Tophee Nut . . .,” you mumble.

Toph lets out a sound between a strangled cry and a laugh.  She hugs you tight, one hand cradling the back of your head.  She whispers in your ear, “You disappeared.”

“I’m okay,” you say, unable to hug her back with your hands still tied.

“Don’t do that!”

You laugh weakly.  “Sorry, forgot to run it by you.”

“I couldn’t feel you!”  The fear in her voice shocks you.  She’s breathing hard, hands gripping your shoulders, as if she needs reassurance that you’re real.  “Are you hurt?”

“Nothing too serious,” you say, quickly tallying any aches and pains.

“Where?” she asks urgently.

“It’s really not – “

“Where?”

You hesitate, not wanting to concern her any more than needed.  “Just some scrapes from the ropes and, um, I think a nick on my left ear.”

Toph’s fingers brush carefully against your ear, feeling the drying blood.  You flinch slightly at the sting of it.  Her brow furrows, angry.

“Is the dragon okay?” you ask, suddenly remembering the pitiful creature you had been trying to save with you.

“What?” Toph seems to snap out of a thought as she's undoing the bonds on your wrists, gently rubbing the skin there to check the damage.

“There was a dragon – “ you start, pointing towards where you’d last seen the cage.

You hear the others gasp.  “Wow!” exclaimed Aang.

The dragon was okay.  You then notice what you’re sitting in.  Miraculously, you had managed, at the last second, to form a rough cocoon of metal around you both.  By the looks of it, Toph had bended an opening to get to you.  You sigh, relieved.  Exhausted.

“You . . . did you cover yourselves?” asked Toph, voice soft.  Amazed.  “Instead of running out?”

“I couldn’t leave it,” you say.

There’s a short pause before Toph smiles, “You idiot.”

Before you can respond, she kisses you.  Hard.  Immediate.  Relieved.  You make a startled sound against her mouth, but she’s already pulling you up, one hand sliding to your waist like she needs the solid conformation that you’re standing here.  That you’re alive.  Safe.  With her.

The kiss deepens almost instantly.  Not because she’s trying to make it romantic, but because she’s overwhelmed.  The fear turned into such great relief, she doesn’t know what else to do with it.

You kiss her back, wrapping your arms around her shoulders, grounding her the same way she grounds herself through the earth.  Slowly, you can feel the tension leave her.

“Wait, did I miss something?” you hear Sokka say, confused. 

You can hear Katara chuckle at him, sounding ecstatic.  When you both pull away, you look over at the rest to see Aang and Katara beaming, Sokka looking shocked, mouth open.  You blush, slightly embarrassed, but not enough to let Toph go yet.

“You’re incredible.  But don’t scare me like that again,” she mutters, kissing your cheek.

Your chest aches at how vulnerable that sounds.  You can see her wrestling to get her feelings back under control.  For once, you don’t let her.  You touch her face gently.  “I’m okay,” you say reassuringly. 

Her hands tighten at your waist again, like she’s reminding herself.

“Yeah . . .,” she says quietly.  “I know.”

“Thank you.  For finding me so quickly,” you say to everyone.  “That guy was just itching to cut my ear off.  He wanted information on you guys.”

“Which man did you say it was again?” asks Katara, eyes narrowing in rage. 

“Older guy.  Greying hair and beard.  He had a jagged knife.”

Toph lets out a mirthless laugh, entwining one hand with yours before turning towards the group as well.  “I sent some guy flying into the side of the mountain after he shouted about bringing this place down . . . hope that was him.”

Everyone else cringes. Katara makes a small "Ugh" sound.

“What?  He’ll live,” says Toph flatly, as if that were the most unfortunate part of it.

“Oh, man.  Zuko would have loved to see this,” Aang proclaims, walking around the dragon.  “Well . . . maybe not in this state, but just seeing the majesty of this little guy.”

Sokka smirks, “He’ll regret having to tend to his ‘duties’ when we get immortal dragon luck.”

“That’s not a thing,” Katara retorts, rolling her eyes.

Everyone laughs.  Relief is thick in the air. 

You feel like you’re floating: the poachers have been caught (or at the very least, pummeled), a young dragon was rescued, you didn’t lose an ear, you somehow managed to achieve some pretty advanced metalbending, and you were here with your friends, and Toph . . . her hand in yours . . . You think back to that first time you dared to hold her hand.  Funny, the way things can change . . .

Something was different.  Yet everything was the same.

The next couple days of travel feel normal as ever.  However, there is some undercurrent you can feel, but can’t quite pinpoint.

Toph still teases you, and seems to enjoy your teasing in return.  She still argues, still bumps your shoulder with hers at meal times, and still flicks you with the occasional pebble.  She still acts like she’s made of unbreakable stone.

And yet . . .

She seems to lean into you more when you sit together.  She bumps your shoulder more often, just to feel where you are.  She listens differently when you speak.  Like your words carry more weight than before.

The scene of your impromptu metalbending lesson keeps replaying in your head during these times.  The way she turned towards you.  The way it seemed she was slowly closing the distance.  Her hair waving in the breeze, her cheeks rosy, so close you could smell the soap she uses . . .

And what she said . . . what was that about?

In an effort to preemptively protect your feelings, you convince yourself you’re imagining the significance.  It wouldn’t be the first time . . .

The group stops for a quick lunch break, and you stray off to a cliff edge overlooking a gorgeous view of the valleys and smaller mountains below.  You try to clear your head, but the brooding thoughts persist.

She likes men, you keep telling yourself.  You’re just some student she lets tag along on missions.

But does she only like men? 

Wasn’t she always going on about men’s muscles?  Didn’t she used to crush on Sokka and Zuko?  A strong, capable woman like her, what could she possibly want with a student?

She’s a legend, and you’re just . . . you.  This last, miserable thought was just running through your head when you’re interrupted by a soft, “Hey.”

You turn your head to the familiar voice.  It’s almost instinctual; you hear her, and your body responds.  Toph is carrying two small bowls of soup.  “You okay?”

You nod too quickly, briefly forgetting she can’t see the gesture.  “Yeah, completely.  Why?”

Her mouth moves to the side in a sort of concerned frown.   “Just that your heart’s racing faster than Momo when he sees fruit.”

You gratefully accept one of the soup bowls she’s holding out.  “I guess I’m just getting a bit antsy about finding these poachers,” you reply.  “Come to think of it, I’m not sure I’ve been in any proper battles.  What if I’m no good?”

“You are,” she says simply.  She sips some of the broth.  You notice that she also appears distracted.  Her brow is slightly furrowed, her arms are tucked into herself more than usual, and she seems pensive.

“And you?  Doing okay?” you ask, as you position your hands around the bowl to better warm them.

There’s a short silence before she answers.  “Sure.  Just thinking . . . “

You wait patiently for her to elaborate.  She doesn’t. 

You both sip your soups in comfortable silence, lost in your own world of thoughts and trepidations.    You hear her take a decisive breath, and quickly look to her, expectant.  “So, are - ?”

“Toph!” calls out Katara.  Her mother’s necklace hangs limply in her hand.  “Could I ask you to fix the clasp on this?  It snapped when I took my coat off.”

Toph gives a slight nod and begins walking back towards the group.  “I’ll pick that thought up later, Tumble,” she says as she turns.

“Alright, I’ll be over in a second.  Just enjoying the view a bit,” you say, turning to look out at the landscape, trying, once again, to clear your mind.

Suddenly, your eyes widen, and you choke on the broth.  You cough to clear the liquid from your throat, pounding your chest.  You take a couple of raspy breaths, but all you can think about is the realization that has hit you: Toph can detect heart rates. 

How could you forget?  You glance over to where she walked away, breathing shakily.  Again, the scene flashes through your mind: Toph’s hands adjusting you as you practiced, sweat forming on your brow as you struggle to remain calm, pretending not to focus on the movements of her hands on your shoulders, your hips . . . your heart racing.

“Oh, spirits . . . “ you whisper.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

The next stop was another nearby village, where there was word some people may have knowledge on the whereabouts of the poachers.  The plan was to restock on supplies as usual, but to also use that time to scope out any leads.  Once you all arrived at the village, you split up.  Unsurprisingly, you and Toph separated as a pair.

You both sauntered around the long street market, picking out vegetables and some other things here and there.  Nothing was uncomfortable, but you could sense that Toph was building up to say something.  You tried not to dwell too hard on whether or not this was going to be a good conversation.

As you reach the end of the market, she takes a breath reminiscent of someone about to take a deep dive, hurries forward a little, and stops short.  You stop a few feet behind her.  There’s tension in her posture.  Not fear.  Not exactly.  Something braver.

Another breath, and she says, seemingly to the air in front of her, “You ever gonna say it, or what?”

You blink in surprise.  “Say what?”

Toph lets out a huff of frustration.  “Don’t play dumb.  You know what.”

You’re not sure what to say.  A long silence.  “I . . .?“

She groans, dragging a hand across her face.  “Spirits, you’re impossible,” she grumbles.  With determination, she turns back towards you, coming close. 

You feel your breath catch.  Her cheeks have gone rosy again.

“I like you,” she finally says, blunt as ever.  “More than a friend.  It’s been that way for a while.”

You feel like you’ve just been smacked across the face.  You feel stunned.  Dizzy.  Is this real?

“You make me laugh,” she continues, “you challenge me in ways others don’t, without trying to prove anything.  You don’t treat me like a legend.  Or a weapon.  Or something untouchable.  You treat me like . . . me.”

You feel your chest tighten at that.  A rush of emotion threatens to overwhelm you.

“And I’m not good at this,” Toph finishes, a hint of self-consciousness - just a little.  “So that’s what you get . . .”

It’s not poetic.  It’s not polished.  It’s her.  Confident, direct, a little rough around the edges.  And it hits you harder than you could have anticipated.

You smile softly, feeling your face grow warm.  “I like you, too.”

Her shoulders drop just a little.  Relief.  The rosiness in her cheeks sharpens.  “Yeah?” she asks, as if she needs to hear you say it again.

“Absolutely,” you breathe, as you step closer.

Toph nibbles at her bottom lip nervously, feeling you close the distance between you.  You’re not quite sure what your next move will be, but you reach out to her.  Your hand barely has time to touch her wrist before she almost hungrily grabs the front of your shirt, pulling you in.  You feel like you’ve forgotten how to breathe.

She tilts her head up slightly, and in her haste to find your lips, your foreheads lightly bump together.  She lets out a breathy, nervous-sounding laugh.  “Hold still,” she murmurs.

You laugh, too.  “I am still.”

“Less still.”

“That doesn’t make any – “

Your sentence is cut short as her lips finally find yours.  Spirits, they’re so soft . . .

The kiss is careful.  Testing.  As if she’s confirming this is also what you want.  Her free hand reaches up, resting on your shoulder, her thumb lightly caressing your skin near the collarbone.  Head swimming, you place your hands on her waist, pulling her even closer.  As you kiss her back, she exhales.  A quiet, almost surprised sound.

When you pull away, neither of you goes far.  You tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, feeling the warmth radiating from her slightly flushed face.  She smiles.

Suddenly, you hear a shout.  “There they are!”

A loud noise echoes through the street as a large rock explodes in the air above you.  Someone had attempted to throw it at you, and Toph, quick as ever, had obliterated it immediately.  You look around and see a gang of malicious-looking men with knives on their belts, and anger in their eyes.  The poachers.  You know it instantly.   

“They’re part of the group tracking us with the Avatar!” shouts out a grizzled, bearded man.  He tosses what appears to be a throw net with metal ball weights.  Big mistake.

The net seems to freeze in the air, and then lunges back towards its thrower.  The heavy weights crash into his gut as Toph sends it flying with enough force for him to continue knocking into the man behind him.  It’s chaos in the street now.

You and Toph fight back-to-back, dodging men and projectiles, slamming pieces of the ground into your targets.  Not every man was a bender, but they had their share among them.  You see one of the men shoot what you think are stones in your direction.  With a quick movement, he is sent flying by the ground beneath him, but not before you feel what you assume is a sharp stone graze the side of your neck.

Villagers run for cover.  Fruit is sent rolling on the ground.  A cabbage cart is crushed by roof tiles.

A large gust of wind coils around the melee, sending men flying.  A boomerang crashes into the side of one of the poachers.  Another poacher is whipped in the face by a strong stream of water.  The rest of the group has arrived, attracted by the loud noise and running people.

It’s a confusing scene of loud noises, flailing limbs, and the rush of different elements.  A large dust cloud has formed around the brawl.  Eventually, about half the attackers lay dazed or unconscious on the ground, and the rest (with no sense of loyalty to their fallen) run off.

The dust hangs in the air.  Breathing heavily, Aang shouts out, “Everyone okay?!”

Everyone checks themselves over.  There’s a sharp intake of breath.  Toph stomps her foot down, concentrating on what the ground is telling her.  “No,” she gasps, feeling around frantically.  “Where is she?!”

The rest of your party squints through the dust, searching. 

You’re gone.

The next morning, you awake to find Toph gone from the camp.  It’s early; the sun has barely peeked over the horizon.  Everyone else is still asleep.

You walk to the mouth of the cave, wondering where Toph could have gone, questioning if perhaps you had been too bold the night before.

After you had grabbed her hand, you both had just sat in silence for a while.  You hadn’t known what else to say.  After a few moments, Toph had carefully stood up, muttered, “I’m off to bed,” and gently pulled her hand from your grasp.  It wasn’t rude, and it didn’t seem as if she were offended.  But now, with her tent empty, you’re second-guessing your actions.

You hear a distant grunt coming from the left side of the cave entrance, down what appears to be a gentle slope.  You walk down, following the noise.

As you reach a rocky clearing, you see her.  Toph is doing some light work with the boulders in the area.  You also notice what seem to be the remnants of an abandoned coal mine.  Rusty carts rest haphazardly on equally rusty tracks that once fed into a now collapsed tunnel.

You watch as Toph bends a heavy boulder, breaking it into smaller parts and gracefully making the pieces juggle themselves in the air.  No matter how many times you have seen her earthbend, you’re always in awe of her seemingly effortless skill.

The first time you saw her fully show off her abilities was when you were only just starting at the Academy, and sat in on a more advanced class.  She had challenged the students to attempt to lay a finger on her, all while holding her hands behind her back.  “Let’s see if any of you tender-foots can make me use my hands.”

You had felt something in your stomach then.  You told yourself it was admiration . . . but you also couldn’t deny that there was something incredibly attractive about such confidence.  To go against multiple people, while further handicapping herself without the use of her hands . . . and all while grinning!  She loved this.  She yearned for a challenge.

As the students rushed her, giving it their all, Toph never did feel the need to use her hands.  She nimbly dodged students and projectiles alike, gracefully sending her own weapons to pin down her adversaries.  They never stood a chance.

Watching her now, you’re reminded of her strength.  You can see the muscles working in her arms as she moves the rocks around.  You find yourself staring, your face growing warm.

Suddenly, a fallen bolt from one of the steel carts flicks your shoulder.  You jump, caught by surprise.

“You wanna join, or are you just gonna stand there?” Toph calls, her back still to you.  She noticed you were standing there.  Of course she did.

You feel your face flush, and you pray to the spirits she doesn’t sense that.

“I didn’t want to interrupt you,” you say.

“You wouldn’t be,” she replies casually, turning to face you.  Her hair is slightly disheveled from sleep and conditioning, stray strands falling loosely around her eyes, cheeks slightly rosy from the workout.  Spirits, she's stunning . . .

“Found some metal,” she said, jutting a thumb at the steel carts.  “Wanna practice?”

Of course you do.

You stand before the carts, concentrating hard.  You focus, and reach out to the metal.  It resists.

Metal is definitely not like earth.  It’s like nothing you’re used to; it’s denser, more stubborn . . . like it knows what it’s supposed to be, and it’ll be damned if you change it.  Even now, after so much practice, you still sometimes struggle with getting it going.

“Again,” orders Toph, circling you.

You strain.  Nothing happens. 

Then a faint clang! echoes across the clearing as a wheel folds itself half a millimeter.  Mockingly.

You drop your hands.  “That was something,” you say hopefully.

“That was nothing,” she corrects immediately.

“Encouraging, thank you.”

“I’m not letting you cheat yourself.”  She steps closer.

You can feel the shift in her attention.  The way she’s reading your stance through the ground, through the tension in your muscles.

“You’re leaning too forward,” she analyzes.

You look down at your stance.  “I thought I was supposed to – “

“You’re supposed to balance.  Not fall over in slow motion.”

“I’m not falling over.”

“You’re emotionally falling over.”

“That’s not a thing.”

“It is if I say it is.”

You huff, blowing a strand of hair away from your face.  Then, in a syrupy voice, you ask, “Okay.  What am I doing wrong, sensei Toph?”

She snorts.  “Don’t call me that.”

You grin.  “Oh, excuse me, senpai.”

She groans, but an amused smile forms on her face.  “You stop that right now.”

Toph circles you again.  You stand still, trying not to fidget under her scrutiny.  Then, without warning, her hands land on your shoulders.  Firm.  Grounding.  Warm.

“Stop tensing,” she says.

“I’m not –“

“Yes, you are.”

You stop arguing as her grip shifts slightly.  Not pushing, not forcing.  Just adjusting.  She has you roll your shoulders back.  “Chest up,” she says sternly.

You adjust.  “Like this?”

“More.  You’re folding in on yourself like a cheap table.”  She pulls on your shoulders a bit more.

“I don’t know what that means.”

“It means stand like you mean it.”

A laugh escapes you.  “I’m trying.”

“I know,” she says immediately.  Her tone has changed.  Less sharp.

Her hands move again.  One presses lightly between your shoulder blades.  The other adjusts your right arm, rotating it slightly. 

“Relax,” she mutters.  Then softer, “You’re fighting it.”

You swallow.  She’s right.  You’re tensing slightly.  Not because you’re nervous about the metal, but because she’s close. 

“I’m fine,” you finally say.

“I didn’t say you weren’t,” she retorts.

You feel your face getting warm again.  Judging by her voice, her face is mere inches from behind your right ear.  You struggle to relax as she nudges you into alignment, as if she’s tuning something only she can hear.

“Don’t lock your knees,” she scrutinizes.  Her hands land on your hips.  No hesitation.  She adjusts your center of gravity with surprising precision.  “Drop more,” she insists.

“I am,” you argue.

 “You’re resisting me.”

“That sounds illegal when you say it like that.”

“Don’t be weird.”

“I’m not being– hey!”  You’re caught by surprise as one of her hands presses just behind your left knee, causing you to jerk.

“Don’t lock,” she says again, more commanding.

You feel a bead of sweat form on your brow.  It is taking all of your willpower to not let on how much her hands are affecting you.

“I feel like I’m being assembled,” you grumble.

“There,” she finally says.  “That’s better.  Try it again.”

She does not, however, move away.  You can feel her presence pressing in on you.

You let out a breath.  You feel a change in the metal before you.  It feels less resistant, and more like it’s . . . waiting.

Closing your eyes, you concentrate on the metal, finding the parts in it meant to be controlled.  You slowly move your hands.  One of the carts shifts, then begins to lift.  It hovers in the air.  You continue carefully moving your hands, cognizant of your stance, remembering to keep your knees bent.  There’s a dull, groaning sound as the cart slowly begins to implode on itself.

You hear a soft chuckle right by your ear.

“There it is,” Toph breathes.  “Good girl.”

It’s like a bolt of lightning has struck your brain.  The cart implodes completely as your head jerks in her direction, entirely caught off guard and immediately flustered.

Her face is inches from yours, grinning, presumably, at your progress.  You dare a glance at her lips, slightly parted.  You have a reckless urge to close that distance . . .

There’s a moment where it feels like the world has stopped moving.  The now collapsed cart falls to the ground.  She’s so close that a loose strand of your hair tickles her cheek when the light gust from the fallen cart reaches you.  She seems to feel your stare, and turns her head towards you.  There’s a beat where you’re both suddenly aware of how close you are.  You almost don’t dare to breathe.  Is she . . . inching closer?

You take a breath, and . . .

“Oh, there you are!” comes Aang’s voice from behind you.

You both jolt your heads in his direction.  He’s standing just outside the rocky clearing, eyes still puffy from sleep. 

“Katara’s making breakfast, if you want any.”  He seems to fully take in the scene: Toph standing inches behind you, both of you in slight squatting positions, faces having been mere inches from each other before he spoke.  A knowing smile forms on his lips.  “What are you guys doing?”

Toph straightens up and turns to face him.  “Bit of morning conditioning.  You understand, don’t ya, Twinkle-Toes?”

You straighten up as well, feeling mildly embarrassed. 

“Heh, ah, yeah . . .,” he replies, recalling the rigorous training he endured with Toph as a child.  Aang looks at the imploded cart as he scratches the back of his neck.  “Oh, wow!  I didn’t know you were that good at this!” he smiles at you encouragingly.

“She’s not,” Toph says, and then grins at you.  “But she will be.”

Aang laughs and starts walking back up to the cave.  Toph begins to follow.

You hesitate a second before calling after her.  “Hey . . . Toph?”

She stops and tilts one ear towards you.  Her way of letting you know she’s listening. 

“Uh . . . thanks.  You helped a lot just now.”

She turns around to face you again, hands on her hips, smirking.  “Don’t let it get to your head, Tumble,” she teases.  “Come on, let’s get some breakfast before Sokka scarfs it all down.”

You cheerfully reach her side, and you both walk back up to the cave together.

‐----------------------------------------------------‐-----------

“Ready to go, Tophee Nut?” you ask, as you hoist your pack onto your shoulders.

Toph Beifong scowls at you, but you notice the slight twitch at the corners of her mouth.  “Don’t call me that!”

You raise an eyebrow.  “Oh?  You call me Tumble.”

Toph scoffs.  “That’s different.  You caused a rockslide on your first mission with us.”

“We were fine!” pipes up Sokka.

“Yeah, we were fine!” you say, nodding towards him.

“Whatever . . . I don’t do pet names,” Toph grumbles.  However, as she turns to pick up her pack, you see a faint smirk.

You’ve been travelling sporadically with the legendary group for about a year now, after somehow managing to impress Toph enough at her Earthbending Academy.  You had been the only one to show promise with metalbending.  She had taken an interest in you for it, and you ended up bonding over your shared sense of humour, quick wit, and dry sarcasm.  She had nonchalantly asked if you felt confident enough to go on missions one day, and you had jumped at the opportunity.  If you were lying to yourself, it was a great opportunity to expand your skills, but if you were being truthful, you had a yearning to spend more time with Toph.  A need to get even closer.

You had always admired “the greatest earthbender in the world.”  After all, she was a legend twice over: founder of metalbending, and a war hero before she had even hit her teens.  But you soon came to realize that you really enjoyed her company.  You kept telling yourself it was purely admiration you had for her, and nothing else . . .

On that first mission, it was all exciting and eye opening, seeing what missions entailed.  You seemed to meld into the group easily.  One day, while mingling and laughing with everyone, you caught a glimpse of Toph just out of the circle, leaning against a boulder, arms crossed, smirking.  She seemed pleased that her friends had taken to you.

The first mission was a simpler one: finding the son of a noble who had wandered off into the desert in a drunken (and foolhardy) attempt to break through into the spirit world. 

You had noticed Toph subtly looking after you.  Quietly.  Little things, like walking on the outside of cliff paths, ensuring the ground remained sturdy and smooth at your feet.  She thought you didn’t notice the way cracks closed themselves, or rocks smoothed themselves into sand before your feet had the chance to trip over them.

You also began to discover her playful and caring side.  The way she flicks pebbles at you when you get a little too serious, or too bold in your teasing.   The way she leans a little closer when you speak, like she’s tuning into you, specifically, in a world she mostly reads through vibrations. 

One night, as you two were sitting around the fire, everyone else gone to bed, she said, “You’re not afraid of me.”

It wasn’t a question.

You glanced at her, poking at the fire with a stick.  “Should I be?”

She shrugged.  “Most people are.  Or they pretend not to be.”

You thought about it.  About how she carried herself like she didn’t need anyone.  How, aside from her childhood friends, everyone seemed to orbit her, never really touching her life. 

“I think . . .,” you said carefully, “you just don’t give people much room to get close.”

There was a moment of contemplative silence.  The only sound the fire crackling.

“ . . . Huh . . .,” she finally said.

That was it. 

But something shifted.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Toph continued subtly looking out for you, but she also began to seek you out, though she would never admit it.  She began sitting next to you during meals, bumping your shoulder with hers.  She would ask – demand – your opinion on things. 

“Do you think this is a dumb plan?”

“Kinda . . .”

“Good.  Me, too.”  She’d grin like you just gave her something splendid.

She began to ask you on more missions, until it practically became your part-time job.  Not that you minded.  Any chance to spend time with her.  And to hone your skills, of course.

At this moment, you and the gang are travelling a difficult mountain range, keeping an eye out for dragon poachers.  It has been a bit of a rough time since, in order to not attract the attention of dragons and poachers alike, you aren't flying a lot.  Appa ambles along with the group, occasionally carrying the tuckered out passenger or two.

The goal for the day is to head into a small village nearby to stock up on supplies.  Once you reach it, everyone goes off in different directions.  You and Toph end up walking around together.  You both chat as you walk.  Suddenly, the crowd gets a bit denser, and someone almost knocks you off your feet.

As you lose your balance, you feel her hand around your waist, catching you.  Firm.  Grounding.

“Watch it!” she snaps at the man who bumped you, a menacing crack spidering out from one of her feet towards him.

He quickly apologizes and hurries off in a panic. 

Toph’s hand lingers half a second longer than necessary. 

You feel it.

You don’t say anything.

Neither does she.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

That evening, there’s a storm.  The rain comes down so heavily, even Toph can’t “see” the way she’s used to.  You can tell it’s unsettling her.

The group finds refuge in a small cave.

Once again, you and Toph are the last ones around the small fire that night.  Thunder rumbles in the distance, and you can tell Toph is still feeling unsettled.  So you begin talking.  About nothing.  About everything.  You just want to distract her.

You talk about your childhood, your fears, the kind of future you hope to have.  You want to eventually live quietly near some woods and a river, enjoying the solitude and free time.

After a bit of silence, Toph says, “You think about that stuff a lot?”

“Yeah, I suppose.”

“Weird.”

You laugh softly.  “What, you don’t?”

There’s a long pause.  Then, quieter than you’ve ever heard her speak, “I didn’t think I got to have that sort of future.”

Something in your chest tightens.

“You do . . .,” you say reassuringly, “if you want it.”

She turns towards you.  You can feel the weight in her attention, and you find it difficult to meet her eyes, even though you know she can’t see you.

“. . . What if I don’t know how?” she practically whispers.

It’s the most vulnerable thing she’s ever said to you.

Before you can overthink it, you shift a little closer. 

You reach out.  Slowly.  Carefully.  Giving her time to pull away if she wants to.

She doesn’t.

You take hold of her hand.  Your fingers automatically lace together.

And for once, Toph Beifong doesn’t have a comeback.

Misery, misery is the venom in my brain

Killin' me, killin' me, but I don't feel the pain

Running from something that I can't really explain

Misery, misery is the venom in our veins

It's been kind of cold (cold), feeling all alone (lone)

Haven't been myself in quite a while you know

They're not in my head (head) like everybody said (said)

Cautionary tale I quit the second spread

Don't meet their eyes it's hypnotic

Make you forget that it's toxic

Caught up in all the chaotic

Sold you a lie and you bought it

Before you know it you're nauseous

Hands down your throat 'til you vomit

Collapse from all the exhaustion

And now they got what they wanted

Misery, misery is the venom in my brain

Killin' me, killin' me, but I don't feel the pain

Running from something that I can't really explain

Misery, misery is the venom in our veins

Show me where it hurts (hurts), I'll show you how it works (works)

They prey on your fear of how it just gets worse (just get worse)

I can't tell if it's real, though, don't know if it's lethal

Did we drink the poison or just a placebo?

Don't meet their eyes it's hypnotic

Make you forget that it's toxic

Caught up in all the chaotic

Sold you a lie and you bought it

Before you know it you're nauseous

Hands down your throat 'til you vomit

Collapse from all the exhaustion

And now they got what they wanted

Misery, misery is the venom in my brain

Killin' me, killin' me, but I don't feel the pain

Running from something that I can't really explain

Misery, misery is the venom in our veins

Watch your step, or you're gonna fall apart

Hold yourself, together inside the dark

Don't look down, you won't get far

You're only as strong as you think you are

Running from something that I can't really explain

I still act like I did back in the sixth grade

Shit stained, snotty nose, whiny little bitch face

Throwing temper tantrums in the bathroom

Toothpaste all over my switch blade

I wonder if I carve this grin into my skin

My life would be a joke then I'd feel better than I did

I wonder if I carve this grin into my skin

My life would be a joke

Yeah, now I'm back

Oh, look at that

You're talking smack

I've been through hell but now I'm back

When death comes knocking at your door

And nothing's left worth fighting for

Say a little prayer and pull the rug

Show me what you're made of

Kingdom come is falling down

No one's left to save you now

Say a little prayer and pull the rug

Show me what you're made of

It's been twenty-one days since I played the news

CNN fucks with my brain and mood

There's only so much that a man can take

Thinking 'bout death in the office place

I stopped sending texts again

I wonder if I keep this up, will I still have friends?

People get offended when I don't reply

I feel relieved by the silence, but I don't know why

Yeah, now I'm back

Oh, look at that

You're talking smack

I've been through hell but now I'm back

When death comes knocking at your door

And nothing's left worth fighting for

Say a little prayer and pull the rug

Show me what you're made of

Kingdom come is falling down

No one's left to save you now

Say a little prayer and pull the rug

Show me what you're made of

Show me what you're made of

I walk alone down the street

Don't need your prayer, no sympathy

I wear my pride 'round my neck

So it's best you watch your step

'Cause I've been up, I've been down

I've been kicked out on the ground

But I stand tall where I'm at

Been to hell but now I'm back

When death comes knocking at your door

And nothing's left worth fighting for

Say a little prayer and pull the rug

Show me what you're made of

Kingdom come is falling down

No one's left to save you now

Say a little prayer and pull the rug

Show me what you're made of