Zuko decided—after a night of overthinking it until he nearly set his bedroll on fire—that he was going to talk to you again.

Not just talk. Flirt. He was going to flirt.

Unfortunately, no one had ever taught Zuko how flirting worked.

He practiced the whole morning under his breath while sweeping the campsite.

“Your fire is… nice?” No. Too weird. “You’re… glowing.” Spirits, no. “You have very symmetrical features—” Absolutely not.

Finally, he settled on something simple. Something he couldn’t possibly ruin:

A compliment.

Just one.

He found you by the riverside, kneeling in the grass, helping Aang practice firebending safely. You moved with an ease Zuko always admired—controlled, steady, soft flames dancing between your palms as you encouraged Aang.

“You’re doing great,” you said to him, your voice warm.

Zuko felt his chest tighten. Okay. Just walk up. Say something nice. Don’t combust.

Aang left to grab water, and Zuko approached.

You turned at the sound of footsteps, smiling. “Hey, Zuko.”

That one smile was enough to make him lose every coherent thought.

He stiffened. “Hello.”

Silence.

You waited patiently.

Zuko inhaled sharply, forcing the words out before he could chicken out.

“I like your… face.”

You blinked.

Zuko blinked harder, horrified.

“I MEAN—your firebending! Not your face! Well—your face is fine, I mean good, I mean—” He exhaled in a wheeze. “I’m going to start over.”

You covered your mouth with your hand, but it didn’t hide your laugh. At all.

Zuko’s ears turned red. “This is going terribly.”

“It’s okay,” you said with a grin. “Try again.”

He cleared his throat, straightened his back, and very seriously said:

“You’re… very competent.”

You snorted.

Zuko stared at you, mortified. “Why is that funny? Competence is admirable!”

You reached out and touched his arm lightly—a small gesture, but enough to shut down his panic. Your touch was warm in a way fire never was.

“I know it is. But… Zuko?”

“…Yes?”

“You can relax around me.”

Zuko opened his mouth—then shut it. He didn’t know how to explain that relaxing around you was impossible. That his heart beat faster every time you looked at him. That his chest felt hot every time he remembered your first conversation by the campfire.

Instead he muttered, “I’m trying.”

You softened. “I can tell.”

You went back to practicing flames between your palms. Calm. Gentle.

“Want to join me?” you asked.

Zuko nodded before you even finished the sentence.

And for a moment, as he stood beside you, your shoulders almost brushing, he felt brave enough to try flirting again. Something simpler. Something he meant.

He said quietly, “You look… happy when you bend. I like seeing that.”

You turned to him, surprised—because that was sweet. Sincere. And very Zuko.

A little warmth bloomed in your chest.

“Thank you, Zuko,” you murmured.

He swallowed, but this time he didn’t look away.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “Anytime.”