Falling For You ✰༄ ѕσkkα

Water || Charcoal's Convenience

After Sokka's confession to the actions of the Freedom fighters, a new problem surfaces in my thoughts: what would happen to us if they found out we were suspecting them?

Anxiety bubbled throughout every fiber of my being, causing panic to rise in my throat. I don't know how or where Jet learned about Feshen because I'm certain that our village was nowhere near this place. Since he was smart enough to dress in a way that shows no signs of his elemental heritage, there isn't a direct way to pinpoint down where exactly he comes from. Adding onto the fact that he uses a pair of tiger heads and has no bending experience at all.

Katara is being strung along by her own naive tendencies, and Aang's too carefree to notice any kinds of warnings even if they were to be presented to him on a shimmering gold dish. The best option is just to tell them, but the idea of making them believe us is where my thinking falls short. We need evidence to support our words.

"Jet's lying y'know."
"About what? I mean you gotta be specific here Y/n, that's basically his whole thing, " Sokka rolls his eyes at my jest, agreeing nonetheless.
"Feshen. He's not following any of what we wanted. This place isn't exactly near my home, if we're being honest. If I can figure out which place he's cooped up in, I can check to see if he's got the real thing. I just have to ask him about it."

The boy's face contorts to show a combination of worry and disgust, "Don't let him do anything weird okay? He really gives me the creeps sometimes, I mean why would he even do that!"
"Wait, you lost me there. Do what?"
Sokka's eyes widen, telling me he's said more than he wanted to. "Well, uhm, you know! When he, last night, and we were talking and then... DON'T STARE AT ME LIKE THAT!"
He gives my shoulder a shove, and I flop onto my back, laughter spilling out of my mouth.

By using the limited amount of context he provided, I come to the conclusion that he was upset over Jet's little display of affection. Namely when he told me to "get some rest" after tucking some loose hair back for me. I knew he didn't like it, and it did make me uncomfortable since we had just met him. Sokka was flustered by my oblivious attitude with his eyes closed, hands tightly holding onto his sleeves.

"Okay! Okay, I know he's weird, but trust me when I say I would never let him do anything that makes me uncomfortable. I can always use my super secret powers if he gets too over the top." I wiggle my fingers in front of his face, and he breaks down to finally show me a smile. He pushes my hands down, letting his palms linger over mine for a moment before switching to tightening his wraps.

I see a familiar flash of yellow and orange fabric speeding through the trees, paired with Aang's bright attitude directed towards us. "Y/n! Sokka!"
As if they are magnetized to each other's presence, Katara used the ladder attached to the tree's trunk to descend onto the platform. She's got something in her hand but it's too difficult to make it out from the angle we're at.

"Look at what The Duke gave me!" Aang fishes around in the Water Tribe bag he's been toting around to pull out compressed black powder marbles that leave behind traces of their existence on his fingers. Momo's landed beside him, chittering curiously at his feet. He throws one down onto the planks, and it makes a loud snap and a miniature flame is momentarily lit. Scorch marks are imprinted on the planks where the capsules make impact.

Momo angrily jumps onto his shoulder, snatching some of the funny rocks, aiming for Aang instead. They cracked around his feet, the airbender incoherently shouting at the creature between playful giggles. Katara had finally finished her long climb down to us as Momo couldn't reach any more of the popping stones.

With the arrival of the younger duo, Sokka's body language turned bitter, loosing all the sweetness he held moments ago while talking with me. His face is tilted down to the wooden planks, arms crossed securely over his chest, blue irises zoned in on the string of rope bound to his wrist.