2. Could Have

It has been about three weeks since he broodingly watched her practice her bending, and two since they made the journey to find the man who took her mother's life. In the end, she couldn't kill him. She was far too compassionate and merciful to accomplish such a horrendous feat. At the time, he'd been completely baffled. They had come so far, only for her to turn around and walk away when the opportunity for revenge finally presented itself. He certainly couldn't have done that, had his own mother's murderer sat quivering in the rain before him. But he supposes that is one of the major differences between the two of them; he could stand to inflict careless ruthlessness on anyone who wronged him, whereas she could not.

Although she hasn't exactly warmed up to him yet, he has noticed a change in her attitude towards him ever since they returned from their little adventure. She could have completely exploded on him as soon as they set foot back on camp. She could have taken out all her pent up feelings of frustration, loss, and anger on him, right then and there. She could have accused him of bringing back painful memories from her past by taking her on that pointless trip. She could have, but she didn't. And he can not, for the life of him, figure out why.

While Toph coaches Aang on his Earthbending in a small clearing a short distance away and Sokka dutifully sharpens his boomerang and blades atop Appa's saddle, he decides to make a move. Katara has been struggling to build a fire over which to cook the evening soup for about half an hour, and of course, she has been too stubborn to ask for a little assistance. With a small, nervous sigh, he stands up and walks over to her.

"Hey, um, you look like you could use a little help."

Her head snaps up quickly, her eyes slightly widened in surprise. His eyebrow quirks and the beginnings of a smirk appear at the corner of his mouth.

"Um, sorry. What?"

"You look like you can use some help. May I?" He holds out his hand and a small flame springs to life in his palm. She draws back slightly and blinks before nodding. He kneels down beside her and runs his hand along one of the logs, engulfing the pile of wood in a calm, glowing blaze.

She stares at the mixture of orange and gold for a moment before glancing back at him. "Thank you," she murmurs with a small smile. He turns to meet her eyes and smiles back at her, relieved that she didn't push him away or berate him for bringing his dangerous, destructive element so close to her. She could have, but she didn't.

"And I don't just mean for lighting the fire," she continues. "Thank you... For coming with me. I actually gained some closure from that trip, and it was all because of you. So thank you, Zuko. It meant a lot."

He stares at her, slightly bewildered and wondering if this moment that they're sharing is actually happening. A strand of dark brown hair lightly floats down in her face, and as the skin of his hand brushes against her cheek while he gently tucks it behind her ear, he notices that she's blushing. Her blue eyes widen in slight surprise, and a small gasp escapes her lips. As if she's realized that the mask of indifference that she's been trying to hold up has been breached, she breaks eye contact, stands, and turns away from him.

"The soup will be ready in twenty minutes," she says coolly as she stalks away.

He sighs and leans back against the large log that they've been using as a sort of bench. He'd been so close, so very close. He could have kissed her, but he didn't.

Regret was a pretty constant thing in his life.