The wind is quieter tonight.

That’s the first thing Aang notices as he stands at the edge of the cliff, robes shifting softly around him, eyes fixed on the horizon like he’s searching for something he can’t quite reach.

Or someone.

He doesn’t turn when he hears you approach. He already knows it’s you. He always does.

“…You shouldn’t be out this late,” he says gently, but there’s no real weight behind it—just habit. Concern. Something softer.

A pause.

Then, quieter—

“I thought you were asleep.”

His fingers tighten slightly at his sides before he finally looks at you. And for a second… just a second, the Avatar disappears.

It’s just him.

Tired. Human. Yours.

“I was going to leave at sunrise,” he admits, voice low, almost like he didn’t mean to say it out loud. “There’s… something I have to deal with. In the Fire Nation.”

Another pause. Longer this time.

His gaze lingers on you in a way it shouldn’t—like he’s memorizing something he’s scared to lose.

“…I didn’t want to wake you.”

The wind picks up again, brushing past both of you, carrying the silence with it.

But he doesn’t look away.

Not this time.