#zutara fanfic excerpt
My fanfic on AO3 has not updated since June, and I sincerely apologize for that. It’s been a crazy year… and this next chapter with Sokka/Suki’s wedding has gotten much longer than I thought.
So, as a treat for you all waiting patiently, I’m sending you an excerpt from a future chapter that is yet to come between Zuko Kai and Katara Imiq. How far in the future is this? Oh, you know… whatever comes with your average slow-burn pace. :P
Chapter ?? - “Santa Marta”
Zuko remembered sea shells— lively-looking spider conches, fanned scallop coins, thin cone-shaped augers— the way his mother always searched for them on Ember Island, the Kai estate neatly situated in the Gulf of Thailand.
Sozin Kai’s private, coastal-Versailles of a getaway had always felt like a museum for Zuko as a child— a dusty old place full of auction-won artifacts and heirlooms— but whenever his mother chose to flee the summer noise of Shanghai, the world hadn’t known any other boy who looked forward to the ocean more. Zuko remembered the water, sitting by the sapphire-turquoise shore those mornings, making sand castles with Azula, boogie-boarding friendly waves… chasing seagulls and kicking up fine white sand. He admired the shells he would find — at first with his mother on Ember Island, and then eventually on his own, in so many other beaches of the world… even when he got too old for sandcastles and the mornings were reduced to a quiet, productive jog with the sunrise.
Zuko couldn’t help but notice, then, how Katara’s eyes changed when she smiled that teethy smile of hers, full of surprise and gratitude for the shell he’d just handed to her… two West Indian ceriths, now thinned into delicate augers.
He couldn’t help but gaze at her.
Katara always talked about her mother’s family, how she saw them in her large expressive eyes, her short temper, her knack for dancing… but every once in a while, her father’s family would come out… in those smiling eyes—those pleased augers—that quiet, not-hard-to-be composure as her hands studied this shell he’d just given her. She was indeed the daughter of Kya Moreno and Hakoda Imiq… but, as her mocha hair swept over her shoulders and clung against her neck by the breeze, as her smile softened and rested comfortably into a dimpled grin… Zuko could see her. That sweetness. That tenacity. That hope. This was Katara, and nobody else.
How could his best friend, without so much as simply existing, harbor the power to take his whole breath away?
Before he knew it, Zuko’s hand approached her wavy hair, slowly pulling rogue strands away from her eyes to rest behind an ear. She looked up at him, curiously, yet he stayed quiet, Katara’s smile fading into a small line of concern. But then a smile formed in his eyes, his lips… the grin almost invisible, yet singing with admiration.
Her dimples returned.
“Hi.”
“Hello.”
His hand lingered on her hair, his thumb caressing her cheekbone. She leaned into his hand, and he could feel the tingling of butterflies at his center— little wonders delicately stirring out of their chrysalides. Katara grinned against his hand and stepped closer to him, not hesitating as she raised her chin towards his face, their noses brushing, their smiles a secret’s length away.
Zuko had never understood that feeling, before, of wanting to kiss someone more than anything in the world. He wondered if that was what Rion Jon had felt with him, that drunken night at boarding school… what Jin might have felt that late afternoon with him, outside the tea shop… and, perhaps, what Mai had always wished, desired, demandedwith him. Zuko remembered fighting a cringe during those romantic scenes at the opera or ballet or theatre with his family, those intimate scenes in films he’d always been invited to premieres of…even at the memory of his Uncle, saying what it felt like to finallyhave a moment like that, with June. It all sounded so sappy, and fraudulent.
Now, he understood.
He felt it, then. He felt it throughout his entire body as he shivered, as he breathed deeply, looking at Katara so closely and wanting to giveeverythingof himself to this person in an instant. A brave look in his face. His heart, a restless taiko drum. With his hand still at her cheek, Zuko felt Katara shaking, too.
It was so strange— they had kissed before, and yet, being with her now, at this unfamiliar tropical oasis where they stood… it almost felt like they hadn’t. Whatever this was that was taking life between them on that beach in Santa Marta… it felt different, somehow, from before. She felt it, too. It was scary. Exhilarating. And God— how patient she was, but Zuko refused to have Katara finish something he had so boldly started.
Carefully, he brought his lips down to hers: a soft peck that lingered in her smile. Katara welcomed him… closing her eyes, parting her lips, taking him in. Zuko hummed his eyes to a close, his lips parting but nervous, still, yet they seemed to oblige to the most beautiful invitation they had ever received.
It was when he felt her tongue paint the edge of his lower lip that Zuko completely surrendered all thought, all inhibition, and both his hands found Katara’s hair, then her shoulders, her waist. And when his arms brought her to him, Katara sighed and raised her arms to find his neck. They kissed deeply. Slowly. They kissed among the sound of waves and seagulls and the breeze of a setting sun, their arms holding each other so tightly that Katara stood on her toes and her knees buckled, and Zuko found her legs, hoisted her up… and she wrapped her legs around his waist, one of her hands still holding the conch shell protectively at the nape of his neck, tickling him.
They hummed as they kissed, laughed as their lips found little dimples and jawlines and eyelids and scars to kiss as well. It was so peaceful… this epic poem written in kisses and lilts of soft laughter. And then, they gazed over at the sunset shore, their temples resting against each other.
“I’m glad we’re here,” Zuko rasped, unable to say anything else. His mind had drawn a blank, but mentally he cursed himself for not saying what he reallywanted to say, had been wanting to say… perhaps for a while now, for much longer than he’d realized… and dang it… this was a perfect time to say it.
But Katara laughed musically, and despite not saying what he thought he might say… her laughter made him feel at ease.
“Yeah. Me too,” Katara kissed his temple, and Zuko grinned.
There was no pressure to be perfect with her, he knew. He felt it— not just then, but in every moment with her. It was a warmth. A comfort. A home being built, brick by brick.
“We should change into some long-sleeves—it’s getting cold,” Katara then muttered, her smile forming against his face.
“It is,” Zuko nuzzled those words against her neck, tickling her.
Hearing her laugh again was a joy, and this place was really starting to hit him, the fact that they had the next four days, three nights together in Santa Marta. No medical school. No AgniKai. No children or dogs to take care of. The world had suddenly turned into a playground. They didn’t even have an itinerary, really… except to explore Katara’s heritage in the beach town and parts of the countryside already dog-eared in her Colombia guidebook. Still… hearing the waves wash ashore, it felt like time was an illusion, here.
Zuko brought his head back, smiling directly to her eyes.
“We should go unpack.”
“Let’s go.”
Their foreheads touched, exchanging another series of little kisses before Zuko put Katara back down to the sand.
They raced towards the patio steps of their AirBnB, kicking wet sand up as they went. The first thing Katara did when they got inside was head up the stairs to place her seashell gift decoratively on the balcony rail of their bedroom… and Zuko playfully chased after her the entire way, ignoring the sand they had brought in with their feet. He embraced Katara’s little laughs as he caught up and pulled her once again to him, hugging her. Tickling her sides. Kissing the corner of her lips and adoring the way she kissed him back.
Theydid unpack, eventually.
