Zuko sat by the firepit, the flickering flames casting soft shadows across his sharp features. Sokka was sprawled beside him, leaning back on his elbows with a contented grin, the kind that Zuko could never quite understand but always found himself drawn to. The night was calm, with only the sound of the crackling fire and the distant rustle of leaves filling the space between them.

“You’re staring again,” Sokka teased, turning his head to catch Zuko mid-gaze.

Zuko blinked, his face flushing slightly as he averted his eyes. “I wasn’t staring.”

“Right. You were…observing,” Sokka said with a laugh, nudging Zuko’s arm.

Zuko huffed, but a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. It was moments like this—quiet and unguarded—that Zuko had come to cherish. There were no battles to fight, no kingdoms to rebuild, just the two of them, sharing the kind of peace he never thought he’d deserve.

Sokka sat up, leaning closer, his voice softer now. “You know, it’s okay to be happy, Zuko. You’ve earned it.”

Zuko glanced at him, his golden eyes meeting Sokka’s bright, earnest ones. “I never thought I’d find it…until you.”

Sokka’s grin softened into something more tender. He reached out, threading his fingers through Zuko’s. “Well, lucky for you, I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me, Fire Lord.”

Zuko shook his head, letting out a quiet laugh. “Good. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

And as the fire burned low, the two of them sat together, fingers intertwined, finding warmth not just in the flames but in each other.