When Toph was twelve years old, she had witnessed a kiss. She remembers is very vividly, whether she likes it or not. Sometimes the memory will swoop down upon her when she least expects it and sink its claws into her heart and refuse to leave. Those are the bad days.
It had happened very quickly and very slowly at the same time. She and her friends had been traveling to Ba Sing Se on foot because of their missing bison. They were used to traveling together, but this time they had had a new member. She remembers how she felt when she first felt her heartbeat, so lively and bouncing. And she remembers his, too. It skipped four beats, then began going very fast. She had scowled, and knew then and there that she did not like this new girl.
Suki.
If that hadn't been bad enough, she had decided to accompany them as they went through Serpent's Pass, a narrow little strip of land that was just wide enough to carry two people side by side. Aang walked with Katara, and the couple that was with them walked beside each other. Suki took Toph's usual place beside Sokka. She could hear them talking and laughing and flirting together the whole way.
She was alone. She did not like it.
This had not changed throughout the course of the day. Suki kept her place at Sokka's hip, and she remained solitary. She remembers how that night had gone. She had been in her tent, trying to get over the embarrassment of kissing Suki, believing her to be Sokka. How could she have been so stupid, so idiotic? She had laid there, her eyes shut tight, when she'd felt the vibrations of a person running away from the camp. Then another person. She didn't have to see to be able to know who they were.
Stop, she'd told herself. Don't go. It'll only make you hurt more.
She didn't listen. She ran after them.
Quietly as she could, she crept up behind them, shielding herself with a rock. It didn't matter. She would've heard them if she hadn't felt them.
The voices. The tenderness. The sound of lips pressed against other lips.
Her heart turned to lead.
She ran away as fast as she could, her eyes overflowing with tears, but she managed to wait until she was safely locked away in her tent for her to sob. Huge, jarring sobs, so unlike any that she'd ever heaved before. Her body had curled into a tiny ball in the corner until the sun had risen.
In the morning she'd acted as though nothing had happened. Aang and Katara, if they noticed anything, said nothing. But she knew. She sensed their closeness, their gentleness. Their attraction. It didn't matter to her that she liked him. It mattered that he liked her back.
She tried to reason with herself. Had she really expected him to like her? He was strong and smart and brave, and she was, too. Didn't people always say that opposites attracted? Maybe they were too much alike. That was it. This didn't make her any happier, and she now had to feel them express their feelings with the thought that she wasn't good enough lodged in her throat.
But then Suki had stayed behind, saying she had to get back to her warriors or whatever. Toph hadn't really been paying attention, and she didn't realize that she would be leaving until she was gone. Sokka was disappointed at first, that much was obvious, but she could sense his worry leaving him behind. He became more carefree and happy with each step away from the pass. She reclaimed her place beside him, once more feeling the thrill of having her fingers brush against his.
They didn't mention Suki again, not for a long, long time, and for a while Toph wondered if he ever even thought about her. She did, very, very much. And very often. Would she come back? Would she return? Would she have to again give up her friends for an outsider? Would she again have to walk alone?
These thoughts consumed her, day in and day out, and every time she thought she'd chased them away they returned in her nightmares.
She told herself she was being stupid. How could she worry about such a small, insignificant thing when the world was coming to an end? She tried to focus on Aang, and what he needed.
Then Zuko came in. He dropped to his knees and begged for forgiveness, pleading to let him join their group. He wasn't lying, that much she could tell, but no one else believed her. They shunned Zuko, drove him away from them. So she had no choice but to follow him to his own camp and try to talk to him.
Well. That was a mistake. He had burned her feet - on accident, maybe, but she could no longer tell if this was the truth. She decided to shun him, too, and crawled back to the Western Air Temple.
When she told the others what had happened, they had scolded her - Katara in particular - but they mostly turned their attention onto her feet. She already had enough trouble getting around, but now how would she see without her Earthbending?
Sokka gave her the answer. He volunteered to carry her around, and suddenly Toph found herself being held in the arms of the very person she wanted the most. She didn't hesitate to curl into his chest, to lean against him. He didn't protest, instead cradling her gently.
Even though this was the best thing that had ever happened to her, she remained suspicious. Why wasn't he putting up a fight? He had volunteered so easily, without even thinking about it. She had found that strange.
She remembers one particular day, when he had set her down near Zuko and then walked away, promising to be back soon. Zuko had been hesitant, but she could feel his worry and found it amusing, amd had beckoned him over with a smirk on her face. His gratefulness had poured off him in waves.
When Sokka had come back, he had found Toph leaning on Zuko's shoulder, both of them laughing hysterically. She remembers that she had stopped abruptly, sensing, even from thirty feet away, his anger, his frustration, his... jealousy. He had stormed over to them, shoving her off of Zuko and dragging him over to a corner. She couldn't hear what they were saying, but she felt Sokka's heartbeat, racing to the speed of sound, and his voice, his anger carrying over to her. She heard Zuko's laugh, felt his assurance. Whatever he said must've worked, because Sokka immediately calmed down, relived.
Sometimes she still remembers that day. She remembers her confusion the most.
As her feet began to heal, she spent less and less time being carted around, much to her dismay. But with her health came her senses, and she made a surprising discovery when she felt Sokka's heartbeat. It always sped up when she was near him. She would feel his eyes lock onto her, and that was it. His pulse would race.
Why? Spirits only knew, but she embraced this newfound possibility that she might, just might, stand a chance. She kept it locked away, tucked gently in her heart, where she could revisit it whenever she wanted. And of course he always got a taste when he came near her.
It was extremely strong one day, when he presented her with a meteorite. She had carefully examined it, her fingers dancing across it nimbly. She had said she loved it, and he had smiled. His heartbeat had been pulsing.
She smiles in return now, seventy years later, as she reaches up and touches the betrothal necklace wrapped around her neck, the soft ribbon caressing her skin. It's hard and brittle, made from the meteorite and carved by him, his careful hands.
She is no longer jealous of Suki, for why should she be? Suki is happily married to another, and she had been so happy for her when she had announced their engagement. No, Suki is a friend, a source of comfort, especially in the years since he has passed.
His heartbeat is no longer around; it's been gone for nearly thirty years. Her heart has a hole, one that can never be filled up. But traces of it can be filled every other month, when her daughters come to visit her.
One of them may not have his genes, but she is his all the same. She lets her face go soft whenever her eldest is around, she reminds her of him so.
Her youngest, however, is almost overwhelming. Her walk, her breathing, her structure. Her heartbeat. It's his. All his. All his.
Sokka may be gone, but whenever Suyin is there, he returns to her. Ans her heart nearly bursts with longing. A little sad, but maybe a little hopeful, too.
