Breathe.
All she had to do was breathe.
It had been four days since he had eaten or slept or said anything. Four days of silence and solitude. Four days since her death. He was an old man, maybe in his sixties, yet he was still great- when she was alive he had the fire of someone who was 20 years his junior. She had been his flame, his drive. And she had died.
He supposed not eating or sleeping might not be such a good idea. But, she had stopped breathing. Why couldn't he stop too? He watched his two grown sons cry before him, beg him to drink and nibble at the bread and fruit they brought him. He only drank water. That was yesterday. He had seen the water swirl like her blue eyes had, and he had to taste her. It was like their first kiss again, sweet and wet.
"Is this right?" she had asked, leaning closer.
"No..." he replied, tantalized by her lips.
"Good." She kissed him, deeply, on the mouth-he pulled her up into his arm and laid her on the leaves. They broke apart and stayed together for hours...
He hadn't had the water today. It was too painful.
He cried for hours today, and his daughters tried to console him, but could not. They had her blue eyes and brown skin, and he couldn't look at them without sobbing. He loved his girls, and they knew it. But she was gone- and with her body they had buried his soul. He wanted to have her back by his side, crown on her head. Like always.
She had stopped breathing. Her voice had gotten raspy, her cough had deepened, and then one night, she had just given up. It wasn't like her, to give in, but she had. She was gone. She was a tide pulled out to sea, never the same.
She coughed. Her sickness was worsening, He could hear it. "Zuko?"
"Yes, Katara?" He grumbled. He pushed his palms over the cover and rolled up.
"Our daughters. Are they lovely?"
"You seem them the same as I. I think they are incredibly lovely. Good Night."
"Take care of them, Zuko. And our sons. Take care of them, too."
"Tara? Take care of them? What do you mean? Tara?"
Her voice cracked and could feel her wet cheeks on his shoulder. "I'm sorry..."
He felt himself cry. "Tara, you're fine. We'll wake up tomorrow and you won't be sick anymore. Don't cry, Lady Katara. You will be here with me..."
"Zuko, I..." she paused and looked up at him. Her hands flew to her neck, where that old necklace rested. She yanked it off and rested it in his hands. "I love you."
She was gone.
He clutched the small token and wiped a stray tear. Stop. All he had to do was stop breathing. But he could not- And for that he thrust the necklace into the sea and sobbed until he had died from a broken heart.