#envente

Zuko wasn’t exactly in the mood for a banquet. He was tired, which didn’t count as a rarity, but he was especially exhausted today for some reason. It was as if his entire month had decided to fall upon and trample him. He wouldn’t have even been going to this thing if Toph hadn’t said she’d go with him—one thing he didn’t understand fully because it wasn’t her scene.

Not that she didn’t stun anytime she went to something like this, but he knew that she would’ve rather do anything else.

“If it’ll get you to quit complaining,” she’d said when he’d moaned to her about this event when she’d arrived for a regular visit a few days ago, “I’ll be your date or whatever. It’ll be fun.”

He’d wanted to question her about the offer but he decided against it; he wasn’t sure then if he’d wanted to change her mind about going with him or not.

Now, he was very sure he would be better off in her company.

Besides, he tended to enjoy it more than he should.

For the past few months, the two of them had gotten increasingly closer with her stays at the palace. It was during one of her very impromptu visits that he’d experienced her verbal abuse towards diplomats with whom he had to meet almost daily. He’d managed to take advantage of it, getting her to speak up when something nonsensical came up in meetings.

It both took weight off his shoulders—because they tended to agree on most matters—and it brought him a little dose of entertainment during an otherwise dull conference.

Spending more time with her wasn’t all that bad, either.

But the more time he spent with her, the more he felt these familiarly unfamiliar feelings for her develop and strengthen and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He’d just broken things off with Mai—again—and it felt like that was it, the last time. And by just, he actually meant that it’d been approximately six months.

Even he was judging himself at this point. He knew he had to move on; he’d been telling himself that he wanted to focus on working and whatever else… but to move on with one of his closest friends seemed diabolical. To even think of her that way was not ideal, while equally inevitable.

Zuko shifted awkwardly by the mirror, a stupid stand of his hair falling rebelliously across his face. He blew it out of the way as he fiddled with the clasp of his ceremonial belt when Toph strode into the room, barefoot as always, her hands brushing off invisible dust from her tailored green dress. She hadn’t bothered to knock.

“Still struggling with that thing, Hotpants?” she teased, leaning against the doorframe. Her smirk was audible even before she added, “I think you’ve been at it for at least an hour. Willing to bet that you need a hand.”

“I’ve got it,” he muttered, his cheeks faintly pink. He felt as though she’d somehow caught him thinking about what he’d been thinking about and he could barely allow himself to meet her blind gaze.

She snorted. “Of course you do. Give it here.”

Zuko exhaled sharply as Toph’s hands reached out, brushing against his. Her fingers were deft despite her lack of sight, finding the clasp and securing it effortlessly. She lingered a beat too long, her hands resting lightly on his waist, somehow forcing him to finally take her in. Green and gold, she wore, and she always looked beautiful in the colors of her nation, but she looked especially so now in her dress and braided hair.

“There,” she said, her voice softer now.

“Thanks,” Zuko said gruffly, not moving away, though he knew he should.

She tilted her head, clearly aware of the shifted energy between them. “You’re tense,” she observed, smirking. “Why’s that?”

He swallowed hard, his gaze dropping to her face. Her smirk faltered just slightly as her chin tilted upward, her lips parting in a breath.

“Too close,” Zuko whispered, his voice hoarse. His eyes flicked to her mouth—he hadn’t meant to, but there was no stopping it. Shit.

“Not close enough,” Toph murmured, her voice barely audible as she leaned in.

He froze for a split second, just long enough to feel her breath on his lips before she kissed him. It wasn’t tentative, wasn’t soft—it was daring, challenging, and entirely Toph.

When she pulled back, her grin was sharp as she made to exit the room. “Now, you’re ready. Get that heartbeat under control at the party, Hot Toddy, and maybe I’ll let you take me out for a dance.”