ashes, ashes, it all burns down

don't say goodbye

Zuko had been acting... strange. As in, stranger than usual. And Mai, who was more than intelligent enough to piece context clues together, was certain of the cause.

That damn war meeting.

Zuko told her it had gone perfectly. He said he'd been the son his father had always wanted him to be. And really, who was Mai to doubt her boyfriend? For all of Zuko's flaws, he was honest. He never lied. Perhaps he physically couldn't. Not to her, at least. So truth be told, Mai might not have suspected anything if it hadn't been for his final comment.

But I wasn't me.

Those words had set off her internal alarm bells, and their ringing was only worsened by how Zuko had been going out of his way to... Well. Not avoid her, per se.

But he wouldn't look her in the eye.

And when he did, it wasn't the same. Instead of the typical, gooey adoration she was used to seeing on her boyfriend's face, there was a deep, aching sadness. Mai wasn't afraid of many things, but that particular expression?

It scared her. Because she had no idea what it meant. What it signified. What it foretold. And because Zuko had never before hesitated to tell her precisely what he was feeling, even if he expressed those emotions in... a less than positive fashion. Like when he'd thrown Ruon-Jian across a room.

But regardless of how he presented his feelings, Zuko tended to be upfront with her - if no one else - and it was driving Mai over the edge that now, of all times, he had chosen to withdraw.

The solar eclipse was tomorrow.

And while she wasn't certain, she suspected this fact had only further contributed to her boyfriend's strange behavior. Mai was a nonbender, yes, but even she couldn't ignore the odd anxiety hanging over the entire country.

Agni. Maybe that anxiety was finally starting to get to her, too.

Still. Zuko's strange behavior had started following that war meeting. Had started following Mai's reaction to that war meeting. And Mai wasn't at all terrified to consider the possibility that maybe, just maybe, his detachment was because of her. That she hadn't been open enough. Receptive enough. Present enough. That she hadn't tried hard enough, like her parents reminded her every day.

Mai paused outside of Zuko's bedroom. She was only in the royal palace overnight because of the eclipse tomorrow, as Azula had ordered her and Ty Lee to be responsible for guarding... Well, Mai had no interest in who any of the nobles were, but she would do as Azula instructed. Always. She had no say in the matter.

It was late. The rest of the palace was asleep. Or at least pretending to be. Half of them were firebenders and were all probably too wracked by nerves to do anything besides contemplate how their lack of power would feel the next day.

Mai knew with certainty, however, that Zuko would not be sleeping. And she was right.

Her boyfriend was hunched over his desk, a sheet of parchment and a pot of ink in front of him, though no tool for writing rested within Mai's view. She could see even from her distance, however, just how much tension he was holding in his shoulders.

"You look like crap," Mai said bluntly, leaning against the doorframe of his room. She crossed her arms over her chest, the sleeves swallowing them whole. Such a shield was comforting.

Zuko jumped at her voice, instinctively moving the weights off his paper so the sheet rolled itself up.

Not at all suspicious of him.

He then looked upwards, eyes widening before guilt flashed across his face as he realized who she was. "Mai...?"

Mai's eyes narrowed at his expression. If she hadn't been certain before, she was now - Zuko was clearly hiding something.