Why Are You Crying -- Miss_Sanguine
She sat huddled in the corner of an empty corridor, arms wrapped around her knees as her tears stained her silk skirts. Her mother would scold her for ruining her clothes, but she couldn’t stop. The sadness that had festered within her breast was now seeping from her like thick blood from a painful wound. It terrified her that she was crying, a voice similar to her mother’s in the back of her mind reprimanding her for doing it. Crying was weakness and didn’t accomplish anything.
There wasn’t even a real explanation to it, either. She had been sitting back against the tall willow tree outside, having detached herself from her friends, as per usual, to watch as they cavorted around the gardens. But today, as she’d listened to Ty Lee laugh without any constraint, watched Azula as she threw rocks at the ducks in the pond with no one scolding her, something grew inside her.
At first she’d thought it was anger, the way her hands had curled into little fists in her lap, but that hadn’t made sense because when she had tried to focus on who she was angry at, nothing came to mind. Then the sadness had come, an overwhelming darkness that had threatened to swallow her whole and she’d had to excuse herself with the lie that she had to use the restroom.
And now here she was, breaking down in a hallway and hating herself for it. It was all she could do not to make any noise, holding in the sadness as best she could and just allowing it to escape in rivers down her face.
And then one of the worst things that could happen happened. She must have been too caught up in her sorrow to have heard him approach because before she knew it a voice directly in front of her cut through her thoughts.
“What are you doing?” it asked, and she lifted her head from her knees to see the young Prince standing before her, brows quirked a little in confusion. When he saw the tears on her face, his eyes widened a bit and he blushed and looked away from her. “Oh.”
She’d never actually seen the Prince up close before, only glimpses of him around the palace with his mother, but she knew who he was. How could she not? He had the same golden eyes as Azula, though different somehow. Not to mention he was wearing the clothes only a Prince could wear. To be honest, he wasn’t much to look at, but she averted her eyes as was proper his status and blushed a little herself.
Was he going to get mad at her for hiding in the palace? Make fun of her for crying? Was she supposed to bow to him, though she wasn’t in the proper position to do so?
“I’m s-sorry,” she managed to say through her sniffling. She looked around for something to wipe her eyes on, then settled on her sleeves-her outfit was ruined anyways. Already she could feel her mind retreating behind the familiar aloofness she was so well-practiced in. It attempted to smother the blackness in her breast but only managed to hold it back. As she moved into a clumsy bow, she added, “I’ll leave immedia-“
“What happened?” he suddenly asked, cutting her off as if he hadn’t even heard her. Despite protocol, she gazed back up at him and saw that he was talking to the floor.
“What?”
Still addressing the floor, he said, “I meant,” here he took a deep breath as if what he was about to ask were complicated, “Why are you crying?”
“Oh.” She looked away, the heat burning ever hotter on her face. What right did he have to ask, besides being the prince? But she had to answer him, because of that one fact. And she couldn’t deny that she had been crying. What could she say, though? She wasn’t even sure why she was crying. So she put up her chin and said, if a bit more harshly than she’d meant to, “I don’t know, your highness.”
The answer seemed to upset him, or maybe it was the way she had said it, because his cheeks puffed out a little and his fists clenched. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” he snapped, and made as if to storm away, but when he had stepped some several paces down the hall, he suddenly stopped and spun around. “Did Azula hurt you?”
Her mind went blank. What had even led him to think that? He looked genuinely concerned, if not still a bit upset from a few seconds ago, so she decided to not add a hint of incredulousness to her voice when she answered, “No.”
Prince Zuko’s shoulders, which she hadn’t even noticed had been tensed, relaxed a little at this. His actions confused her, but she said nothing, which led to a silence that carried through the hall for a few minutes, the prince staring at her with his brows now furrowed as if he was struggling with something inside his head.
Just when she thought her legs would cramp up forever because of the awkward position she was kneeling in, he seemed to come to some sort of decision. He puffed out his cheeks and chest, that blush blossoming on his face again, and came to her before holding out his hand for her to take.
She stared at it as if she’d never seen a hand before, mind blank again for what to do or say. When he huffed a little and thrust it toward her further, his intentions finally clicked and again she felt her face warming. She timidly reached out and took it and he helped pull her to her feet.
They stood there, his warm hand grasping her small one and her feeling like no time was passing at all, then Zuko jerked back and they were apart once more. Her heart fluttered and her mouth opened to thank him, but like before, he cut her off as if unaware, or as if he were afraid of what she’d say.
“You’ll need some new clothes,” he said, looking away at the wall to avoid her eyes.
She looked down at her skirts in surprise, having forgotten their stains, then glanced back up at him. “No, it’s fin-“
“I’ll have the servants bring you some. Just stay here a minute.” He seemed suddenly excited to do something for her, despite his not being able to look into her face, and she swore she saw the briefest flicker of a smile on his lips before he turned to race down the hall and out of sight.
Boys are weird, she thought, but a hidden light bloomed in her breast and the darkness from before was suddenly gone.
There wasn’t even a real explanation to it, either. She had been sitting back against the tall willow tree outside, having detached herself from her friends, as per usual, to watch as they cavorted around the gardens. But today, as she’d listened to Ty Lee laugh without any constraint, watched Azula as she threw rocks at the ducks in the pond with no one scolding her, something grew inside her.
At first she’d thought it was anger, the way her hands had curled into little fists in her lap, but that hadn’t made sense because when she had tried to focus on who she was angry at, nothing came to mind. Then the sadness had come, an overwhelming darkness that had threatened to swallow her whole and she’d had to excuse herself with the lie that she had to use the restroom.
And now here she was, breaking down in a hallway and hating herself for it. It was all she could do not to make any noise, holding in the sadness as best she could and just allowing it to escape in rivers down her face.
And then one of the worst things that could happen happened. She must have been too caught up in her sorrow to have heard him approach because before she knew it a voice directly in front of her cut through her thoughts.
“What are you doing?” it asked, and she lifted her head from her knees to see the young Prince standing before her, brows quirked a little in confusion. When he saw the tears on her face, his eyes widened a bit and he blushed and looked away from her. “Oh.”
She’d never actually seen the Prince up close before, only glimpses of him around the palace with his mother, but she knew who he was. How could she not? He had the same golden eyes as Azula, though different somehow. Not to mention he was wearing the clothes only a Prince could wear. To be honest, he wasn’t much to look at, but she averted her eyes as was proper his status and blushed a little herself.
Was he going to get mad at her for hiding in the palace? Make fun of her for crying? Was she supposed to bow to him, though she wasn’t in the proper position to do so?
“I’m s-sorry,” she managed to say through her sniffling. She looked around for something to wipe her eyes on, then settled on her sleeves-her outfit was ruined anyways. Already she could feel her mind retreating behind the familiar aloofness she was so well-practiced in. It attempted to smother the blackness in her breast but only managed to hold it back. As she moved into a clumsy bow, she added, “I’ll leave immedia-“
“What happened?” he suddenly asked, cutting her off as if he hadn’t even heard her. Despite protocol, she gazed back up at him and saw that he was talking to the floor.
“What?”
Still addressing the floor, he said, “I meant,” here he took a deep breath as if what he was about to ask were complicated, “Why are you crying?”
“Oh.” She looked away, the heat burning ever hotter on her face. What right did he have to ask, besides being the prince? But she had to answer him, because of that one fact. And she couldn’t deny that she had been crying. What could she say, though? She wasn’t even sure why she was crying. So she put up her chin and said, if a bit more harshly than she’d meant to, “I don’t know, your highness.”
The answer seemed to upset him, or maybe it was the way she had said it, because his cheeks puffed out a little and his fists clenched. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” he snapped, and made as if to storm away, but when he had stepped some several paces down the hall, he suddenly stopped and spun around. “Did Azula hurt you?”
Her mind went blank. What had even led him to think that? He looked genuinely concerned, if not still a bit upset from a few seconds ago, so she decided to not add a hint of incredulousness to her voice when she answered, “No.”
Prince Zuko’s shoulders, which she hadn’t even noticed had been tensed, relaxed a little at this. His actions confused her, but she said nothing, which led to a silence that carried through the hall for a few minutes, the prince staring at her with his brows now furrowed as if he was struggling with something inside his head.
Just when she thought her legs would cramp up forever because of the awkward position she was kneeling in, he seemed to come to some sort of decision. He puffed out his cheeks and chest, that blush blossoming on his face again, and came to her before holding out his hand for her to take.
She stared at it as if she’d never seen a hand before, mind blank again for what to do or say. When he huffed a little and thrust it toward her further, his intentions finally clicked and again she felt her face warming. She timidly reached out and took it and he helped pull her to her feet.
They stood there, his warm hand grasping her small one and her feeling like no time was passing at all, then Zuko jerked back and they were apart once more. Her heart fluttered and her mouth opened to thank him, but like before, he cut her off as if unaware, or as if he were afraid of what she’d say.
“You’ll need some new clothes,” he said, looking away at the wall to avoid her eyes.
She looked down at her skirts in surprise, having forgotten their stains, then glanced back up at him. “No, it’s fin-“
“I’ll have the servants bring you some. Just stay here a minute.” He seemed suddenly excited to do something for her, despite his not being able to look into her face, and she swore she saw the briefest flicker of a smile on his lips before he turned to race down the hall and out of sight.
Boys are weird, she thought, but a hidden light bloomed in her breast and the darkness from before was suddenly gone.