It happened after a long week.

Late night. City lights outside. Your bedroom was dim, quiet, and blissfully warm beneath the covers.

You were in the middle.

Toph was behind you, arm slung around your waist, face buried in your back. Her skin was soft and warm, her breathing steady. She always played tough, but when she slept—when she trusted—you felt it in how tightly she held on.

Katara was in front of you, one leg draped over yours, her forehead resting against your chest. Her hand gently traced lazy circles along your ribs, as if reminding herself you were still there.

No words. Just warmth. Skin against skin. Heartbeats syncing.

Katara stirred a little, murmuring, “You’re safe with us… okay?”

Toph grumbled from behind, half-asleep. “Yeah, yeah… don’t move too much or I’m kicking you out of the cuddle zone.”