Falling for the Enemy (Sun and Moon Book 1)

Chapter 23 - Where To?

I wake to the smell of meat sizzling on a fire. The crackling of the flames and the hiss-pop of fat hitting the coals reaches my ears next, along with a strange shhssniick sound that I can't identify. I can feel the warmth from the fireplace by my side, seeping into me. I draw in a contented breath, wondering what Aki's cooking, and if she's going to use her special herb sauce on it.

But when I open my eyes, it's not Aki's familiar surroundings that I see. Oh, right. I'm not with Aki anymore. I'm traveling to Ba Sing Se with the prince of the Fire Nation. Great.

I blink to clear the sleep from my eyes as I stretch, staring at the fire in front of me. That's strange, I'd have sworn it was next to me. I roll slightly and my right side comes up against the source of the heat that I'd mistaken for the fire.

I blink up at Zuko as he looks down at me, his amber gaze unreadable in the light of the fire. It casts hollows on his cheeks and eyes, making him seem unreal. But the smile on face is somehow obvious, and I can't help but smile back. I'm too tired to hate him right now. I'll ignore him later.

He shifts slightly, and I glance down... to see that I am curled around him like a contented panda-leopard as he sits before the fire, sharpening his swords. I feel my eyes bolt wide and I scramble away from him, blushing furiously. He watches me silently as I dart to the other side of the fire, trying not to stumble on the dragging skirt of the too-big robe I wear over the now-dingy wedding dress.

I pretend to be busy with the canteens while he stares into the flames.

After awhile, when my hands have stopped tugging uselessly at the already-tight strap of my canteen, the familiar shhssniick fills the air again, and I risk a glance at him.

He sits where I left him, cross-legged on the ground. His swords rest across his knees, and he carefully draws a whetstone across the edges of first one of them, then the other. This is something I've become used to over the weeks we've traveled together, and somehow the familiar sight calms me.

I settle in front of the fire, drawing my knees up to my chin and wrapping my arms around them. I let my focus drift over him, learning him. His cropped black hair flops ever so slightly over his forehead, and his lips are compressed in concentration. The scar across his left eye appears in darker shadow than even his eye sockets, a dark blast across his pale skin.

His burnt ear seems strange when viewed in contrast to his perfect right ear, but somehow the look suits him. He'd be too pretty without the scar, I think. Too... fake. The scar makes him look real, look human.

I wonder how he got it.

A training exercise gone wrong? An accident aboard ship? A childhood fight? I resist the urge to ask him. Somehow I know that it's a sensitive subject. My gaze travels lower, across the narrow planes of his nose and chin. My eyes trace his mouth, and I wonder if it's really as soft as it looks.

I draw my gaze lower, down the shadow of his neck, to the bits of pale chest exposed by the tears in his green Earth Kingdom shirt. I wonder if he can possibly be as toned as he feels when he's pressed against me. Suddenly he clears his throat, and I realize that he's stopped sharpening. His raspy, wry voice fills the air around us.

"See something you like?"

My gaze darts up to his face, and I can feel my cheeks flaming. I glare at him.

"No."

He chuckles, and I curse him for the laughter in his eyes.

"Whatever you say."

I resist the urge to smack him. Instead I look around, wondering where we are. I glance at him again. He's still chuckling softly as his whetstone whirrs across the blade of the sword.