Katara pretty much had Aang memorized.

She knew his favourite colour ("Blue, like your eyes," he said, attempt at suaveness ruined by his blush and giggling), his favourite food (custard tarts), birthday (the seventeenth day of autumn), his morals, and a million other things. If someone ever had a question about Aang, she could answer it.

And that was how things should have been. They had been friends for three years, a couple for two. If she didn't know him by then, when would she ever?

Still, there was one question she would never – could never – give an honest answer to.

"Do you love him?" Gran-Gran asked one evening while she and her granddaughter gutted fish for supper.

Immediately, Katara forced a smile (hoped the sadness would be mistaken as wistful) and said, "Of course I do."

I could tell you
His favorite color's green
He loves to argue
Born on the seventeenth

And if you asked me if I love him,
I'd lie

Katara pretty much had Zuko memorized.

She knew his favourite colour (red, like fire and his flag and his temper, though he would never be so sentimental about it), his favourite food (well seasoned fish), birthday (seven days before the end of summer), his morals, and a million other things. If someone ever had a question about Zuko, she could answer it. Most just wouldn't think to ask her.

It wasn't really how things should've been. They had known each other for three years, been enemies for nearly a third of that time and separated for their two years of friendship. Yet she knew him so well one would think they had never been strangers.

Still there was one question she would never – could never – answer honestly.

"You love him, don't you?" Iroh asked, brewing them both a cup of strong-smelling tea.

Immediately, she forced a look of disgust (hoped her blush would be mistaken for a flush of anger) and said, "Of course not!"

He sees everything in black and white
Never let nobody see him cry
I don't let nobody see me wishing he was mine