Written for zutara100.

Prompt: # 22. Hands
Title: Remember
Word Count: 278
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Zuko only wants to remember.

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In the small, brief moments when he could think properly, he tried to remember how small they were, how gracefully they moved, how narrow her wrists were… the way the skin was so smooth. They were the hands of a true healer, of someone who was accustomed to touch, to gentleness, and showing compassion. They were hands that knew love.

His hands, he had noticed on occasion, were rough and calloused from hours upon hours of training, of days upon days of small, mindless errors in which his clothes and pale flesh were singed by the very fire that seemed to drive him in everything he did.

His vision had gone blurry and his mind scattered, but he was vaguely aware of these unmarked, healing hands touching his cheek, just below the jagged edge of his scar. The fever prevented him from being able to fully take in his surroundings, but that didn't seem to pose as much of an issue to Zuko at the moment because the pain was unbearable and he was beseeching every spirit known to man to just let it end.

Apparently, someone heard him because eventually the pain died down and Zuko could breathe without tasting blood again. He started drifting off to sleep with only the hazy, indistinct notion that someone was talking to him, telling him that he was going to be okay, to just hold on because he was going to be all right and for a fleeting moment, he knew the feeling of comfort and warmth of bronze fingers brushing his scar. Before he slipped into complete unconsciousness, he believed the voice.

When he woke up, he didn't remember.