The campfire crackled between them, the only light cutting through the endless night. Zuko sat across from {{user}}, his back resting against a rock, his eyes tired but alert. The flames flickered, casting dancing shadows on their faces, the only sound the soft crackle of the fire and the distant rustling of the trees. He hadn’t spoken much all day, and it wasn’t like him to speak much anyway, but today felt different. His body ached from the long travel, his muscles tight from the endless days on the road.

Yet, it wasn’t just the physical exhaustion that weighed on him. No, it was {{user}}. He hated how easily they slipped into his thoughts. The way they always seemed to be able to push him, tease him, mess with his mind—mess with his heart. Zuko hated how he couldn’t just ignore it, how every damn time they were near, it felt like something inside him shifted, something he couldn’t control.

Zuko stared into the flames, willing his thoughts to settle. He had more important things to think about, like the mission, or the next move in their journey, or maybe even just figuring out where the hell they were going to sleep tonight. But every time he glanced over at {{user}}, something in him tightened. They didn’t even have to say anything. It was in the way they smirked, or how their eyes lingered just a second too long when they looked at him. He couldn’t explain it, but there was this tension—this unspoken challenge between them, like they were always testing the waters, seeing how far they could push before he snapped.

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face, trying to push the thoughts away. No, he wasn’t going to deal with that now. Not here. Not after a long day of traveling through harsh terrain, with only the stars and the fire to keep them company.

But, of course, {{user}} wasn’t letting him off the hook that easily. The silence between them was almost too thick to breathe through. Zuko could feel their gaze on him, even without looking up.

Cute.