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They gravitated towards Zuko whenever the temperature dipped even slightly. At night, he often woke to someone pulling their bedroll towards him, or slipping under his arm, or turning over in their sleep and colliding with his shoulder.
It alarmed him, at first. It had never been a good thing when someone woke him in the dead of the night.
It was strange, then, that he was on the run without Uncle, officially a traitor to his homeland, and for the first time since his mother left, he woke in the night sandwiched between bodies, feeling safe.
(Zuko becomes the group's heat-pack.)
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Bookmarked by SpringPetunia
24 Jul 2021
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get me a walkable, huggable heat pack like zuko please
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“It’s healing really well.” Katara tells him with a smile, before her lips quirk down into a frown. “Though it’ll still scar pretty bad.”
Zuko shrugs. “It’s ok. I doubt people will really focus on it anyway… the one on my face is a bit more prominent.”
Katara makes a face, like she’s not quite sure if she should laugh or frown, when Toph speaks up.
“You have a scar on your face?” Toph asks, sitting up so she’s sitting by his legs rather than lying on them.
Zuko blinks. He never quite forgets that Toph is blind, but the fact that she can’t see his scar never really occurred to him.
“Oh, yeah.” Zuko looks down at his lap. “My father burned like, half my face off before I was banished.” He says it a little too casually, probably not bitterly enough.
A crash next to him makes him look up, to see Katara's horrified expression, and a shattered bowl of water at her feet.
No one says anything for a long moment.
“Zuko… it- your dad?” Katara finally manages to gasp out. Zuko blinks at her, his brain moving slowly.
“You didn’t know?” He asks in genuine surprise.
“No.” Sokka wheezes.
Zuko blinks at him. “Oh.” Is all he can manage to say.
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Bookmarked by SpringPetunia
24 Jul 2021
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Bookmarker's Notes
Friends who want to murder for you /pos