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             ❝ i don’t know, i’ve got a few options in front of me.
            too bad i can’t get that one person out of my head first.❞

                ty lee offered that one person a piteous fake smile before retreating to her room. pondering as to why she had not asked her, here and there, if they could be valentines this year. she was pretty certain azula had no one to celebrate with, they even used to be each other’s valentines when they were little kids. perhaps if she went back and demanded, azula would say yes —— if only for a taste of their peaceful childhood. something prevented her, however, and she guessed it was hypocrisy. ty lee wanted more than cheek kisses and playing in the sand. not that she would ever get to tell her so. the humiliation would be totally weakening. she didn’t think she could survive hearing a scoff from azula at the mentions of her feelings —— which were honestly so silly and childish. moving on was the only right way to treat these abominable emotions, though, where to start and how to do so… she wouldn’t know. all her attempts had pathetically failed.

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                ❝ awh, you’re such a little dweeb, azu! ❞
                          
                                     lithe in their posture, fingers curl generously in the driver’s ample collar ——— dragging softly. ty lee’s other hand fumbles to release the seatbelt blindly. these two arms constraining her are not her beloved’s, their protective hold, as useful might it be; was incomparable to what azula’s embraces could provoke. was it accompanied of her natural satin, brushing the spot just below her ear, caring fingers massaging her belly soothingly, warm words surrounding her like a hot bath comforted her curled limbs. this seatbelt needed a break —— she thought, moving so she awkwardly stood on her knees, looking down on azula with a gentle grin.  

                                        she’d already stiffened, hands resting on her lap limply, she could almost HEAR what inner monologue coursed through her restlessly, what exercised RESTRAINT engendered the silent, reserved woman next to her. some would find it adorable, or cute, ty lee was only eternally amused by her lack of social skills yet at the same time comforted. it told her azula’s flaws wasn’t only her dark, quick-witted mind. it told her azula had sacrificed a part of her life to reach solace in another; it showed her she was human, not a stupid, programmed daughter, cleverness expanding more than she truly needed it. ty lee had learned thinking equaled suffering, and that some made such choice, to suffer their way through knowledge.

                                          ty lee didn’t ask herself too many questions, and although she was not a prodigy, she still had superior intellect, like most born in her situation. it had been a choice, to refrain from suffering. deciding the gymnast explosive life had been a given though, she couldn’t sit two minutes straight, she couldn’t sit and think because… killing herself with a slow fire was never what she desired ——- and although, azula sat beneath her. and it pained her in a way she’d always wanted to be tortured. menaced by sweetness, thrilled by rejection, observing her with a really nasty smile. she was surrounded by a feeling she thought she controlled but was ten miles higher and as heavy as the OCEAN. she let herself be cradled by the golden waves and tempests were far ahead, dark clouds only visible in her imagination.

                                             she came to believe azula was thinking too much and never letting go. she came to believe she was letting go too much and not thinking enough, and just by their positions she could tell, how ridiculous their natures were! that too ——— amused her, and she lowered herself, berthing her forehead onto azula’s hot one.

                        ❝ you asked to kiss me this day, didn’t you? ❞     
                                        

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          -…her fire goes out for good. why would i do this. who needs happiness anyways.

 where azula was always warm, overwhelmingly and gently radiating like a feeble sun, now she shook coldly, her shoulders shuddering and jerking and her lips trembling helplessly. ty lee would look at the concentration in her brows, how she fought it so mercilessly, how she tried to steady herself and the quaking limbs. ty lee would hush in her ear, ‘shhhhhh, you’re okay, you’re with me,’ and she wondered whether this increased the fear coursing through RED veins in her wide eyes. 

                        ty lee would take a deep breath, curling her head between her neck and azula’s chest, covered thickly and still not protecting her from the cold, from herself. her sweet, sweet lips would kiss her jaw, for it was still alive, alight and so beautiful. it killed her, to see azula deprived of control, deprived of love. 

                         this was the only way —— azula would not live a life, azula would merely survive and walk on all fours in the dark. she’d never see the light, she’d keep hurting people for the ache that kept twisting and twisting in her back. but it took her minutes to be able to give her the solution, the term to her life, her last kiss, her last embrace. oh, ty lee regretted she could not have found her mother, she regretted being unable to stop her from loosing. ty lee regretted being such a cowardly friend. ty lee would miss her pretty golden eyes, the tone of her voice when she teased her nicely, or the way azula would sometimes make up for thing she said or did. she never said sorry to anyone but her —— never shopped in the company of another girl and never trusted anyone as much as ty lee.

                          which made her fit for a final betrayal. the over sweetened tea bumping against her lips, slipping past them viciously. she counted a few minutes and she could see the energy ghosting out of her body, wide eyes relaxing, hands falling limply. in fifteen minutes, she became heavier, her gaze clouded. twenty and she had to old her head so it didn’t fall back. twenty five and her breathing was inperceptible, ratting against her throat like a soft whisper.

                          she tried so hard not to weep, not to cover her face in the most soothing kisses. she tried hard not to hold her so tight and not to squeeze her dead hand. she tried hard not to let the fat tears meander down her cheeks and stain azula’s cold face. lips blue, eyelids violet. it was slow, gentle, heart wrenching.

                          azula fought for her last gasp, and ty lee wiped the hair from her forehead. she was gone. she was finally resting. finally in he righteous place. azula did not deserve a life of suffering, azula deserved sleep, love and tons of affection. azula now slept, laying down like an empty shell.

                           ty lee wished many times this night she could have followed her, ty lee wished many times she was well now and with her mother so they could talk about everything and become closer. this was the right thing.

   you are not immortal, but your memory will stay as long as i live.

          azula, a daughter of fire and monster of monsters.

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                  i.                                  

             azula is six; six times more skilled than her brother at birthing fire; six times colder than she was last year; …and six times less available to play. ty lee is six, too. the sixth duplicate of occupied, mindless parents and six times more self-conscious than she should ever be at such age.

              however, when she sits, her legs still dangle idly from the seat. she smiles honestly, she laughs earnestly and most of all, she get sick-excited when azula invites her to the sacred palace. azula specially selected her cheerful face out of her sisters’, and somehow she finds comfort in that. being the princess’ choice.

              her infantile, uncovered legs kick through the air softly as she watches her friend innocently, training midst the hot weather. usually she was unauthorized to assist to those limits-pushing exercises, whether azula, her father or the trainers had settled that stupid rule. but azula had been busy as of lately and ty lee lonely and she had pleaded to come the next day. and there she was, observing the low rumble of fire coming from concise movements; admiring azula’s rather stiff stance that contributed to her own training. a stance much unlike hers: a light, dancing step, an alert, agile motion.

              the sun had come down already, flames bursting just as vividly, just as obstinately through the air that became drier and hotter. almost too poor to be breathed. but ty lee would persist, azula’s company, whether her attention was directed on getting better or the little doll sitting there, was azula’s company. she would never get bored of the princess’ intensity, of her perseverance or the way her brows frowned with concentration. it was… pretty. indeed, not the kind of pretty most would think, it was expression. you saw how much she worked internally before her fist struck forward stiffly. 

              finally, the princess seemed half-way satisfied with what she had accomplished that day, she closed her eyes almost serenely before retreating towards her home, forgetting ty lee was even there which —- admittedly —- was a sting for her who had spent the day just obediently watching.

                  azula knew how unlikely of her such restraint was. another part of her though, wondered why she expected azula to act differently; she had demanded to come; she had chosen to stay the day and perhaps azula didn’t even want her to be there in the first place. azula, in general, really hurt and she never knew why she came crawling back to her. but she did.

              now she hurried after her, her legs happy to be finally moving, stopping a few inches away. using her voice but not her arms to halt her, if only to get a silly good-bye ( why was it so important? ). azula would turn, exhaustion wearing down her pretty, princess-ly features. her eyes glimmered mean, golden and judging. she watched ty lee not with boredom but impartiality, staring down at her nails. it took a second to realize azula was expecting feedback and boy was she honored to deliver!

              azula knew what she would get. ty lee was predictable. she was amazed, she was proud, too. and the little acrobat would somehow bend over her friend’s resolution and invisible barriers to press her lips a little over her brows. telling them in all humility that she adored them. their quirks, their frown, their secret indications.

         ii.                                  

              ty lee never usually provokes azula’s wrath. she prefers to be stepped on venomously then to be straight forwardly attacked. oh, she is aware now that they are eight, that their friendship was but an entertainment to the royal. azula’s words should be as harmless as a move in pai sho or a decent technique at chess, but each little remarks the prodigy utters feels like drinking poison from her perfect mouth. and really can she help herself? she’s naive, she’s faithful, she is loyal. she’ll always come to the hand that feeds her ——- feeds her hatred, lies and toxicity. ty lee somehow lives better on a bitter stomach than an empty one.

               but they are eight and ty lee is showing some subtle signs of having a mind of her own. which comes with the awakening of the soul, with growing up. and it leads to rebellion, to distrust and lies. so when azula asks her if she can come to her home after school and she says no ——— because she can say no ——- the princess’ eyes turn somber and resentful. everything she has done wrong in the past, has been turned into everlasting grudges. being friends with azula was like walking on eggs, it’s only pure luck that she’s an innate acrobat.

               although, she purposefully wants to break an egg this time, so she lies and she knows azula can decipher it. ty lee tries to hide it, not to the best of her capacity, because she purposefully want to be a challenge without being too harsh. azula asks her why and again, she blatantly lies. just in the way her friend’s head nods a single time, she knows she’s both hurt, betrayed and vexed. a blink after this furious look flinches, this look becomes evasive, cold and cruel. this look becomes a monster and she can see her own scared little pupils widening in them, as clear as they are.

                azula gets closer, a fire in her cheeks that envious hands shake for greedily. did she break more than a little egg? consequences, shouldn’t she expect them? —- and then she shuts down again. azula cannot make her feel guilt without pronouncing a single word. a dancer, a bubbly little girl like her shouldn’t even allow her.

                 she feels a pressure on her wrist before looking at the smooth, slender fingers wrapped around it possessively. her wet grey eyes focus on the strength, on the pain wrapped so beautifully around her arm, she watches helplessly because she knows azula doesn’t want to gather attention in the school yard. so ty lee is back to being mousey, letting the pain infiltrate her wrist with as little as a whimper and panicky tugs towards herself. keeping from looking into the eyes that might mirror a cold golden reality of her looks in the instant, she tugs, harder and harder but azula won’t let go, and suddenly it BURNS.

                 suddenly it’s too hot and her dear princess’s hand is surely leaving a mark that she does everything to lessen, it’s heart wrenching to be obediently pulling, obediently begging, obediently fighting for her skin and how she feels it melting under a fervent hold. she’s broken ten eggs she realizes and that’s when she blurts out that she’ll come. make an arrangement and come and finally the boiling, human cuff loosen.

                  when she raises her head, azula is looking down at the hand she cradles, trying to hide her dolor, how she writhes her little feet and winces her mouth and rubs a little up her hand shaped burn. azula seems both fascinated and concerned but makes no move or words about it. azula returns to class when the bell rings and ty lee writes with her left hand for the rest of the day; incomprehensible. 

                  then it’s time to walk back to the palace, her arm still pulsing with a dull ache, as if another arm was slowly blooming inside. azula’s mark is bright red and she suffers quietly, breaking anymore eggs might be lethal for her. eventually they enter the quiet, empty hall, traverse to her friend’s room to place her bag and she gets changed. as usual. ty lee tells her she should use the bathroom when really all she want is escape the room, azula tells her to wait, azula takes the time to be changed neatly and then approaches ty lee with awkwardness, something like guilt on her mouth as she takes proof of her vileness.

                    the princess kisses her arm, feels the need to justify herself that —— she’s kissing it better and that she didn’t burn her on purpose. she thanks her for not telling and that’s all it takes for ty lee to forgive golden eyes. it even hurts less, now that she thinks of it. she knows there is no science in kisses that it’s placebo. but it’s relieving and an idea sparks her mind, a rough, corny idea, really and she reaches for azula’s collar under the pretext that it’s badly folded.

                   ty lee pulls and swiftly opens the right side of azula’s outfit, sneaking her head lower to kiss where she knows the heart is. she kisses it better. it took her one burn inflicted by azula to understand the pain of many inflicted to herself.

                iii.                                  

                   she’s fourteen, unhappy and determined. azula somehow senses her leaving, or knows by her intermittent, fidgety behavior, but she stands in her room while the last touches are given to her belongings. a modest bag with nothing enough for her to last on her own while she’s gone. she’s figured a lot of things between eight and fourteen.

                        burns heal, as her wrist is as fair as ever. also, placebo effects are pointless, provisional and mostly ineffective.

                    she knows she’s not like azula, known that much for long. ty lee had remained in her family far too long, following her dear friend’s bad example. ty lee found herself too warm to be cold, too nice to be mean, too light to be heavy. she thought she could handle it, but this night had been the last needle they plucked through her chest. this night would be the last she saw those merciless golden eyes. and before jumping out of the window she finds herself grabbing the princess, claiming her lips and intruding them, as always she felt in their dynamic.

                   if she might be a coward and abandon her family, she might as well take that kiss and leave with no second word. she’s figured that maybe she comes back to azula for a reason other than fear, admiration or friendship. she figures it might be something else, but the kiss doesn’t tell her anything, and azula doesn’t kiss her back.

                 iv.                                  

                     she finds family under a disheveled tent. she forgets a shining, feline glance, almost, although it will always inhabit the back of her head. she likes the fragility of standing one hand on a wire, she likes to see her master compliment her technique and her progress. she likes the support they all provide her; she likes that they do not question her past and who led her to the marginal life.

                      six months pass. her gorgeous demon then comes.

                      they don’t know the why the heir to the throne has private affairs with their main attraction, but they let them discuss in the lodge. discuss is barely what they do because ty lee remembers saying no and something along the lines of not breaking more eggs, so she stands and tries to enjoy the fragility of her situation. 

                     very well, she will participate to her quest, she will deliver soul and body to the cause. but she suspects more, she cannot trust those golden eyes, the immaculate, deceptive demeanor of an old friend, of an old scar. so ty lee grabs her cheeks, she invites herself to feast warmly and gently on reddened lips. it’s a test. ty lee protects herself by knowing if anything changed.

                       but again, azula doesn’t kiss her back.

         v.                                   

                        ty lee refrains from approaching azula during the avatar hunting. she’s a good little girl and obeying her princess is second nature. then comes the great fall of ba sing sae, then comes the great fall of their inquisitor against her own brother.

                          three years pass, in which the prodigy is chained in the pits of a facility against her will. three years pass and still, like a recurrent nightmare, the monster crawls to her and she forgives it —— in her dreams the monster kisses her back, in her dreams azula won. in her dreams… azula ends up telling her to wake up because it’s not real.

                          three years and azula is out, she receives a letter from the fire nation to inform her of the event. despite her good sense she’s on a boat first hour in the morning. she meets mai and zuko for the first time in three years —— mai hasn’t grown too much compared to her —— her youthful cheeks have lost their roundness, her smile its naivety. when she embraces her friend it feels truly calming, soothing. she kept fidgeting at the thought of meeting azula. like when she met her the first time.

                          zuko would look at her kindly, and he would lead her towards the room even though she knew which one, she knew the pattern on the rug by heart, she knew how many steps to make if she needed to walk in the dark, she knew azula’s room to have a wincing door. and it didn’t feel foreign although her heart fluttered in her chest as if a bird flying across the road hurriedly. 

                           ty lee looks down as soon as the wooden door slides open. she walks in, barely crossing the line between the red and grey rug. she almost begs him to stay when zuko tells them he’s going to respect their privacy and leaves. there are three things she notices, then; azula is eyeing her with wariness. her entire body suffers from sweating. she doesn’t know what to say other than a dumb greeting. ‘hi, azula.’

                           azula skips this, obviously and comments on her sheepish attitude and obediently she sits on a chair to look at ease. still, she doesn’t connect their gazes. is she ashamed of betraying azula? is she trying to conceal her excitement? ty lee figures azula has already figured it out for her so she doesn’t bother doing it herself. after all, her name, the emotions, the moments, they were all the most toxic infusion to have brewed in her little head for the past years.

                            she still speaks smoothly, as if she knew her audience was drinking avidly her every word and awaiting for the juicy ones with a thirst unimaginable. her hold of the language showed only a portion of what she contained, only what she desired to show, and for once not every word she uttered was offensive. azula acted as if this encounter was ordinary, as if three years didn’t pass and not once ty lee dared show up. but ty lee knows she’s extremely resentful ——- because everything she does is a string of guilt she can puppet her with. every mistake on her part is an ever lasting grudge.

                            azula didn’t ask her to come visit, so then she couldn’t say no, couldn’t face her temper and her paranoia. she thought it might kill her to witness her friend in such a state. she thought it might kill her to hear azula whine about a heroic death. about wishing to be gone from this world, this twisted, sublime world.

                        azula was sublime, as if watching a wide landscape and feeling so very small. azula was sublime; she was frighteningly beautiful and the lightning after booming thunder. azula was miles long dark clouds and somber, restless oceans. azula was uncontrollable nature and a poisonous flowers. azula was a snake, meandered around her frame and squeezing ever so slowly to prevent her from breathing. ty lee couldn’t escape or die, it was as if she’d been the only survivor of this hold.

                            and now azula speaks up after a pause, asks her to sit on the bed ——— she won’t bite —— she promises and ty lee believes her not but sits. as far as she can from her… her… her princess. she feels so incredibly weak, as if piercing her with a sword would only be a soft nudge with a toothpick. azula moves on the bed, graciously, and she settles next to her.

                             for the longest of times none of them move, speak or breathe. this is pointless, ty lee thinks. this time she could put to profitable means and she sits next to the person who takes fun in wrecking her. so she stands and ultimately she leaves. they don’t owe anything to each other, they’re even now. she doesn’t care, she doesn’t care she doesn’t care she doesn’t care.

                          ———————————-

                          the same night she feigns sleeping —————— someone enters her room. she can just tell who by the way she carries herself. the mattress deepens next to hers. no words again. she’ll be leaving tomorrow, she thinks, and that’s when azula kneels on top of her, palm digging in her pillow.

                   azula asks her if she remembers the day she turned six and she kissed her forehead.

                                   ty lee corrects her, she kissed her brow. azula asks her why and ty lee says ‘i don’t know; just because.’

                 azula asks her if she remembers the day she held on to her so strongly she left burn marks.

                                 ty lee nods and suddenly she itches to touch her arm —— the memory is though blurry; she doesn’t remember why it happened. azula whispers quickly that she’s glad it healed. ty lee instead hears that she hasn’t forgiven herself since.

               azula asks her if she remembers the day she ran away;

                                 of course, she tells, finally distinguishing features under the heavy cloak of the dark. azula looks distracted when she says no one had ever tried to kiss her on the lips before. ‘i am not lovable,’ the acrobat hears nonetheless.

               azula is about to her ask her if she remembers kissing her under the tent,

                                 ty lee nods before she’s finished asking. she wonders what she wants, with all those questions. with the torture of little reminders. ‘go to sleep now, azula,’ she commands lazily, turning on her side to accentuate her irritation.

                           the ex-prodigy assures her that she will not be able to because she keeps remembering so clearly, now that she’s there. ty lee tells her it’s only normal, that she should at least try to close her eyes and doze off. azula leans into her, then, she uncertainly presses her lips against her mouth as if it could burn if she went too eagerly.

                           ty lee is already gripping and holding her precious nightwear, pushing her lips forward and suddenly trailing fingers through her hair. azula retreats then, fast and feather-like she escapes the room. azula kissed her back, she thinks, for that last time. this is unresolved regrets and contradictions she tastes. and it is so bitter on her tongue that this night they both stare wide-eyed to the roof. thinking of stars they cannot reach and happiness that’s concealed light years behind those dead shining forms. azula is too deceiving, she thinks. azula is dead and she shouldn’t think of dead lights. it burns too bright only to secure you in their celestial darkness.

                               azula strides in the next day and it’s empty.

                                      she is not lovable; she leaves marks.

                                  she does not love, she holds possessively.

                                           she does not look; she pierces.

                         she is sublime; she is too much for such a small thing.

                         love was too small for ty lee; and ty lee too small for her.     

                           

                             
                          

          she holds her breath deep ——— FEARING lightning will be the last shriek she hears over her own. but she stands against the odds, because she has bet long ago and far away that azula will benefit her. in some way. at some time. she doesn’t mind being patient.

          she hears nothing though; but all over her she feels the intensity of her eyes, especially in her wet, fascinated ones. they are an ever lasting fire, they are deep like the night, they are observant and intelligent and it’s probably what she likes most about the princess. behind all this calculating, all this manipulating there is a clever mind, a mind that chose to be affectionate towards her. surely that means something.

            azula calculates too much to be random like that. everything in her room is neat, yes, but also calculated in order to be efficient, aesthetic and convenient. maybe it bothers her that ty is sweaty and disheveled. but it’s nice —— the gesture isn’t stiff, it’s softly unnatural. nobody looks that focused on a strand of hair. it’s strangely endearing to see her act beyond set boundaries. she encourages it —- her, being human. she does it subtly.

           so ty lee grins and nods thankfully, finally slipping from the metal wire and landing on her feet — upside down was kind of getting to her head, making it red and inflated.

             ❛ sorry, i have too much hair to contain it all! ❜
                   
                 it became habit to apologize for… being herself.

             i wish you had too much personality to conceal it all.

lunamatremarchive:

“Everyone sees the world around them differently- your reality and the reality of another may be completely opposite simply due to the way you view things. It is part of what makes each person’s life unique.”