Pride Goeth [Milliways]

[princeinexile]

His place was still clean; mostly because he had barely been here since she had seen him last. The dogs followed thme up, happily padded over to the pile of blankets, and dropped down into them once Zuko had reached a kitchen chair and sat down

Comments

[allican_do]

It flutters through the water, down her fingertips, and Katara feels the ghost of his pain. It's there in her throat, then down in her stomach, and her hands follow that same line on his body. Her eyes have closed and she's leaned forward. How close she is to the person she's trying to heal only matters to a certain degree - touching him with her fingertips isn't much worse than putting her palms flat against his skin.

It lets her lean forward, though, and with the tightness at her belly coiling into a ball, putting a little pressure there isn't a bad idea at all.

[princeinexile]

The glass is shortly empty, and it is on the table with a hollow clink a moment later.

"It's alright. I'm finished."

You can stop now, and let his pain be his again.

[allican_do]

In any other situation, Katara would be arguing to keep going, to try and fix it for good. However, while Katara does like to insist she's indestructible, there are occasions where she knows she's--

Well, not beat. But she does lean back as soon as he's spoken, breathing deeply as her back hits the chair.

She's just going to sit there for a minute, all right? After she's gestured to push the water back into its glass.

[princeinexile]

Yeah. You do that, Katara. Zuko's going to get up-- the pain moves again, this time to his back, which has him bent over the sink a moment later holding himself up for support while he collects himself. But--

--then he's straight backed, stiff and still.

"Do you need to rest?"

[allican_do]

She was resting. But now Katara's watching Zuko move, stiffen and hold himself over the sink. This is another feeling she isn't used to and certainly doesn't like.

"...No, I'm fine."

Thirty seconds of the pain he's felt for months and she's breathless. It's more than unacceptable - it's just wrong.

[princeinexile]

He stoics better then she ever will.

"Are you sure?"

[allican_do]

Katara was never very good at stoic-ing.

"Yes. I'm fine."

The second he turns his back, she's flicking her wrist to get the sweat and salt of his skin out of her water. She needs a drink.

[princeinexile]

Mm, tasty.

He leans against the counter, looking awkward-- he finally turns his eyes from her, and is-- quiet, for now. Certainly, his brain is running fast and probably to all the wrong places, but that's Zuko for you.

"The healer never came," he says after long deliberation. "I think she gave up."

[allican_do]

Half the glass is empty before he says that, and Katara lets it rest against her lips for a moment before glancing at him. With his back to her, it's easy enough to set the glass down, to put her full attention on him.

Only with his back turned.

"I can talk to her," she offers quietly, curling her hands around her glass. "Work with her, maybe. At least to find out exactly what was done to you."

[princeinexile]

"Why bother? The -- mending she considers will give me nothing at all. No pain for numbness. I'd rather have the pain, then-- nothing," he points out, fingers pressing against the countertop.

[allican_do]

"I wouldn't let her do that."

Ignore how insistant that was, how-- borderline protective.

"There has to be another way. If there's a way to make a curse, there's a way to break it."

[princeinexile]

"Quit trying to save me," Zuko says. "I'm no interested."

And he's not. He's just tired.

[allican_do]

"So?"

She's too out of her element and, yes, very tired, to make it a combative word or challenging or anything but just-- there.

"I never asked you to be interested."

[princeinexile]

Zuko leans against the counter still, keeping his back to her. He doesn't want to look at her, see the compassion or the pity.

"You can't help someone who doesn't want to be. Uncle tells me so all the time."

[allican_do]

Katara isn't looking particularly compassionate or pitying. She's just tired, frustrated, and just-- conflicted.

While she sits at his kitchen table, drinking water. Her eyes drop when he speaks, water brushing her lips before she sets it aside and sighs. "Your uncle's right. You only let me help you when you're desperate and don't want to admit it."

[princeinexile]

He sneers at that, but she can't see it. She can probably imagine it.

"Not too desperate. Just tired of listening to you simper."