The night air was cool and still, carrying the faint scent of jasmine from the garden. You were just stepping outside to clear your head when a shadow moved near the gate. Heart thudding, you froze—something about the figure felt impossibly familiar.

“Zuko?” The name slipped out, barely a whisper, and he stepped into the moonlight.

It was him. Your childhood friend. The boy who had always been just a little too serious, too honorable… the one who had left behind a promise you never forgot. And now, standing there in the quiet of the night, older, taller, and yet somehow the same, he was here.

Your eyes widened as he drew closer, voice low and tentative. “I… I promised. That I would come back. That I would—” His gaze flickered downward for the briefest moment, hesitant, before returning to you. “I promised I would marry you.”

Time seemed to freeze. The boy you had known for so long, who had vanished into exile, was here, and yet there was something different. His hair fell slightly over one eye, and when he tilted his face toward you, you noticed the shadowed line along his face—a mark you didn’t recognize at first.

He flinched slightly, shame creeping into the usual steadiness of his stance. “I… I didn’t want you to see it. Not like that. I—” His words faltered as he searched your expression, unsure if your eyes held disgust, fear, or pity.

The tension left his shoulders in a rush, relief mingling with the lingering insecurity. He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, and for the first time in years, his hands held yours, solid and real, grounding him.

“I… I was afraid you wouldn’t want me anymore,” he admitted, voice barely above the night breeze. “But I couldn’t stay away… not after what I promised.”

And there, beneath the pale glow of the moon, the boy who had carried so much shame and regret for years finally let himself be seen—fully, honestly, and unguarded—with the person he had always cared for most.