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English
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Published:
2017-06-01
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2,217
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1/1
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So Much Younger Yesterday

Summary:

Birthdays are meant to be special.

Notes:

A birthday gift for my new friend!!
Enjoy, babe, you deserve the world!!
Title and inspiration comes from Starving by Hailee Steinfield.

Work Text:

Nine PM on a Thursday night and Zuko finds himself alone in front of an empty pond somewhere in town he’s not familiar with. He glances at his phone to find yet another well wishing message for his birthday - none of which he’s answered.

It’s not a bad day, necessarily. It’s been fine, actually. He woke up, the sun was out, he didn’t have to go into work, and Uncle had left a small batch of his favorite cupcakes on the counter for him as a quiet greeting.

But the attention can be a little overwhelming, which might be why he’d felt the need to just wander away from his life for a little while.

The thin grass at the bottom of the pond sways in the breeze that passes. It’s been so dry lately, with no sign of rain in sight. Zuko sticks his foot out and nudges a pebble until it rolls down into the bed of the pond.

“Hey.”

The voice startles him. He looks over his shoulder, where a young woman stands on the side walk.

“Are you okay?” She asks.

Zuko blinks twice. “Uh,” He responds articulately. “Me?”

The girl raises her brows. “Yeah. You’re the only person out here.”

Oh, duh. He nods. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m good.”

She steps off of the side walk and walks towards him, and the closer she gets, the more obvious it is that she is absolutely, stunningly beautiful.

The wind tosses her ridiculously long, dark hair around her shoulders. Her legs are long and lean, extending out of a pristine white skirt that compliments the warm brown tones of her flawless skin. An abdomen that’s still soft at the edges peeks out from under her top - cropped just below her chest, with two sea shells on it, a shade of blue that looks fantastic on her.

And her face - what a face. Round cheeks and a pert nose to compliment her full, glossy lips; her brows are neat, her lashes thick, and they frame the bluest eyes he has ever seen.

By the time she crouches down beside him, Zuko feels breathless.

“Then what are you doing sitting at an empty pond outside of a super market on a Thursday night?” She questions. Her voice drips with curiosity.

He shrugs, feeling a little defensive. “Why are you looking for total strangers to bug in weird parts of the neighborhood?”

Her nose wrinkles adorably, but the offense written across her face doesn’t bode well. “I was just trying to be nice!” She insists, sitting back and fixing her skirt. “You looked lonely and sad so I thought I’d come and make sure you were okay, but. Fine. Whatever.”

Zuko winces a bit. “Wait!” He shoots to his feet too, aristocratic features contrite. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude.” He shrugs. “I’m - it’s my birthday. I’m out here because it’s my birthday and it’s been an okay day, a good one, really, nothing’s gone wrong at all, but-” He pauses, mouth thinning as he struggles to find a way to express himself.

Her eyes are so attentive and so, so blue.

“But it’s always been a weird day for me.” Zuko deflates a bit. “I’m not gonna tell you my sob story, I just-” He sees the way her eyes flicker to his scar, and he’s grateful she doesn’t interrupt him. “I don’t get along well with everyone in my family and that makes this day... Weird for me.”

She regards him silently for a moment. Her eyes gleam in the moonlight, enticing and lovely.

“What’s your name?”

“Zuko.”

The corner of her mouth quirks upwards. “Nice to meet you, Zuko.” She reaches out, takes his hand from his pocket, tugs him forward. “I’m Katara.”

Zuko stumbles over his feet to follow Katara, his heart thumping with surprise. “What - where are we going?”

Katara tosses her hair over her shoulder to smile at him. “We’re going to celebrate your birthday,” She declares.

---------------

He has to admit, this cake is pretty damn good.

Zuko hums as he sticks another bite into his mouth, glancing up at Katara. She’s telling him a story from her childhood in a very animated way - fork waving in the air, bits of chocolate cake flying off of it, hands waving around her. Something about a time when she and her older brother had tried to sneak a penguin into their house to keep it as a pet, and when they’d been caught, all hell broke loose.

Katara shakes her head and finally shoves her forkful of cake into her mouth. “Moral of that story,” She says, “Never try to sneak anything past my Gran-Gran.”

Zuko snorts. “Don’t even know the lady and I wouldn’t dream of such a thing.”

Katara tilts her head. Her hair falls across her shoulder like an umber waterfall. She studies him, gaze piercing, until Zuko starts to squirm.

“What?” He demands finally.

A gentle smile crosses her face. It softens her features, strengthening the almost otherworldly glow to her eyes. “You don’t seem as sad anymore,” She explains.

Zuko flushes. He looks away and sets his fork down, pushing the plate away enough to rest his arms on the table top.

“I’m not,” He confesses softly.

When he looks up, Katara’s smile is open, warm, bright, and pulling him further into her tide.

She reaches across the table and places her hand against Zuko’s. It’s a light touch, allowing him the chance to pull away if he wants, which he appreciates. He doesn’t quite have the courage to turn his hand over yet, but he looks up and smiles back at her, hoping to convey his gratitude.

“Soooooo...” Katara draws the word out, tracing circles into the back of Zuko’s hand as she does. “I know it’s been a quiet day, but did you have anything special planned for your birthday? Like, anything wild?” She grins, a decidedly disarming sight.

“Oh, yeah.” His voice is completely flat. “Yeah, I was planning on getting a tattoo on my ass today. Big one of a flying bison. Wanted that for years.”

Katara laughs, a sound that rings through the room, and then her fingers lock around Zuko’s wrist.

“So let’s go get it.”

He lifts his drink to his mouth at the wrong time and snorts into the liquid. “I was kidding,” He tells her.

She shrugs. “So let’s go get real tattoos. Right now.”

He can only stare. She’s kidding, right? She has to be.

But her expression is steady, eyes bright with the excitement of the possibility.

She’s not kidding. Oh, lord.

“Come ooooonnn, Zuko!” Katara leans forward, batting her thick eye lashes. “It’s fun! It’s spontaneous! It’s romantic!”

“Romantic?” He parrots weakly.

Katara nods eagerly. “Yeah, if we get matching ones!”

“Matching ones?!” His voice reaches several octaves he didn’t know he could hit.

“Yes!” She’s practically kneeling on the table, tugging at his wrist. Her skin contrasts so nicely with his, sun kissed against his porcelain. “It’ll be a good memory, too! A better memory for your birthday!”

He can’t help it. He cannot resist her. He continues to wade into her tide, well aware of the current tugging him further and further towards the vast depths she possesses. She’s only met him little over two hours ago, and here she is, already trying to reshape his life to be better.

“Alright,” Zuko relents, lifting his free hand. “Alright. Let’s go get matching tattoos.”

Jumping up, Katara squeals in delight. She runs around the table, knocking her fork to the ground, and throws her arms around Zuko’s neck, hugging him tightly. The smell of red plum and freesia greets him as he touches her waist tentatively and slips beneath the surface.

---------------

The sound of the tattoo gun buzzing away fills Zuko’s ears.

There’s a soft song playing around them, something with slow guitars and a baritone voice, but he can’t focus on anything that isn’t the needle digging into his skin.

It definitely hurts, but it’s not entirely unbearable. Not for something so small. Zuko squints at the artist’s hand, holding himself in check. If he moves, he could jostle the artist and ruin the tattoo all together.

He’s really doing this. Art is being etched into his body. Permanently. Forever.

Lord, help him.

“All done!”

The artist pulls the gun away from his body and wipes the excess ink away. She leans back to let Zuko see her handiwork. The outline of a small crescent moon sits on his hip, just above the waist of his jeans, etched into his skin forever. It looks aggravated, red and puckered but he... Doesn’t hate it. The longer he looks at it, the more it grows on him.

The artist applies the necessary goop to the tattoo and then covers it with a bandage. She looks up at him with a small smile as she removes her gloves. “Your girlfriend is almost done.”

A hot flush races up his neck. “She’s not my girlfriend,” Zuko insists, glancing at Katara, “And thank you.”

Chuckling, the artist shrugs and turns away. Zuko sits up and stands, careful not to pull at the bandage, and moves to the black bed Katara lays on. She grins up at him when he approaches, raising her brows to indicate her excitement.

Zuko smiles softly. Her enthusiasm is beginning to catch up to him; he’s feeling happier than he has all day.

When the artist sits back, Zuko leans over carefully to see the finished product. Katara’s tattoo sits in the same place as his, the left side of her hip. Hers is a sun, the same size as his moon, a simple outline with four large points, representing rays of sunshine, and two smaller rays between each of the larger lines.

“What do you think?" Katara asks excitedly.

Zuko clears his throat. The flush on his cheeks is still present. “Sexy, “ He murmurs, meeting her gaze fleetingly. “Romantic.”

The sun was the appropriate choice for her, because Katara’s answering smile is bright enough to blind him.

When she’s completely finished, Zuko helps her to her feet. He reaches into his back pocket and digs out his wallet, removing the right amount of cash to pay - something he spends at least three minutes arguing about with Katara.

The artist that did his tattoo winks at him as they leave. His flush deepens.

Outside, the air is cool, a welcome refreshment to his flushed skin. Beside him, Katara sighs happily. She grabs his hand and locks their fingers together, swinging their hands back and forth. Zuko ducks his head and laughs quietly.

“I can’t believe I just did that,” He mutters. “I just got a tattoo. Holy shit. A tattoo!”

Katara laughs. The sound is warm and rich, seeping into the colder parts of him. She stops before Zuko and reaches for his shirt. “I haven’t seen it yet, lemme see!”

Zuko chuckles and lifts the hem of his shirt. He peels his bandage back carefully, revealing the crescent moon on his hip. The redness has faded just a bit, but it’s still raised, standing out starkly against his skin in its black ink.

“Sexy,” Katara says, echoing his earlier sentiment. She looks up at him with a playful smirk. “Romantic.”

He busies himself with plastering the tape back to his skin, lowers his shirt, and lifts his gaze. Katara meets it steadily. Her eyes swim with mirth, and -

he can’t help it. He steps closer and leans down, he touches his fingers to her jaw, he kisses her.

It’s light, just a simple press of the lips, and she inhales through her nose. He nearly pulls away, heart lurching, but she leans into it. Her fingers wrap around his wrist and she kisses him again, coaxing his mouth open, inviting him in for more.

Zuko responds in kind, taking another step closer, his free hand coming up to slide into Katara’s hair. It’s impossibly thick, soft as it tangles around his fingers. He kisses her with an enthusiasm he has never had in his life, not before this night. He kisses her with all of the want in his body, allowing himself to admit to just how much he yearns for her.

And she doesn’t shut him out, doesn’t push him away, but instead pulls him closer. Her fingers slip beneath his shirt, grazing his right hip. The touch sends bolts of lightning through his system. She digs her fingers into his skin, and it is the best goddamn feeling in the world to know that he is wanted as much as he wants.

Katara pulls away with a faint gasp. “Happy birthday,” She whispers, biting her lip around a smile.

Zuko grins. Warmth blossoms through him, effectively dispersing the cold he’s so used to feeling. Before he can chicken out, he murmurs, “Wanna come back to my place?”

Katara’s smile curves into a smirk, one that turns Zuko’s insides into mush. She removes her hand from his hip and curls it in his shirt. “Lead the way,” She responds, voice soft and alluring.

Zuko takes Katara’s hand and kisses her knuckles, then tucks her under his arm and turns around to retrace their steps.

Definitely the best birthday he’s had yet.