For Zutara month! I have a feeling this is going to be a lot like Always There-chronological, but a jumble of oneshots and fluffery.

She refused to sleep the first night.

She didn't—wouldn't—trust Zuko. She'd been down that road before with him, Jet, Hama. Now she was no longer naïve. She wouldn't fall for his act.

No matter how wounded he'd looked after she'd threatened him, or how hopeful and grateful he'd been when they'd accepted him into their group. Despite that resigned expression he'd had when she doused him with water. Despite.

He was a liar and a fake.

And she knew he was plotting something.

So she sat outside Zuko's door and waited for the moment he'd betray them.

And she waited.

And waited.

Until the stones grew a shadow, and she looked up, a mixed sense of triumph and despair overwhelming her as her eyes landed on the Fire Nation Prince.

"What are you doing?" he asked. His hair was a mess, and he wasn't wearing a shirt.

"I should be asking you that," she said darkly, her hands twitching for her waterskin.

"I couldn't sleep," he admitted.

She glared.

"Every time I shut my eyes my mistakes come flying back," he continued. When she didn't reply, he cocked his head at her and frowned. "Aren't you cold?"

She hadn't worn her parka, hoping the chill would keep her alert. She'd be lying if she said she didn't have goosebumps though.

"I'm fine." The response was crisp. Probably more than he deserved.

Wait. No. He deserved every ounce of ice she had to offer.

He nodded and disappeared into his room. At first she thought she'd won, she'd sent him back, foiled his plans. But then a short time later he returned with his cloak. He threw it at her and she caught it, eyes narrowing.

"I said I was fine."

His eyes lit with amusement. "You're a bad liar."

And he went back to bed.

The next morning Zuko found her curled up in front of his door, stubbornly buried in the black and red material.

Sound asleep.