Aug 19, 2020
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Zuko grabs his betrothal necklace and creeps to the door of their room, pausing before glancing back and smiling. When they first got married six years ago, he had promised himself to never leave Sokka without a goodbye kiss or an “I love you”, and that’s a promise that he has been faithful to so far. He smiles, his chest tight when he looks at Sokka, and blows a kiss in his direction as he whispers, “I love you, Sokka.” (or, an exploration of Zuko’s grief)
