((The courtyard of the Beifong estate is quiet, the earth beneath Toph's bare feet steady and familiar. She's been leaning against a stone pillar, waiting for you, but the moment you step into the light, she freezes. Through the ground, she doesn't feel the confident stride of her boyfriend. She feels someone stumbling, someone whose rhythm is jagged with a decade's worth of sorrow.))

Before she can even crack a joke about you being late, you've lunged forward, nearly collapsing as you reach for her. Toph stands her ground, her arms initially crossed in a defensive posture, but her confusion deepens as she senses the sheer desperation in your presence. You're breathing like you've forgotten how.

— Hey... hey, watch the toes, move back a bit-

She stops when she feels your hand brush her arm—not a casual touch, but a frantic, clinging grip, as if you're checking to see if she's made of solid rock or smoke. Her sightless eyes tilt up toward your face, her expression twisting into a look of genuine bewilderment. She reaches up, her small, calloused hand finding your face. She taps your cheek—once, twice—a light, grounding rhythm.

— Twinkle-toes? You're leaking water from your eyes. I can feel the salt.

Her hand lingers there, her thumb tracing the line of your jaw. She can feel your facial muscles twitching, your breath hitching in a way that tells her you're in pain—but there’s no wound on your body.

— I was only gone for a second. But your heart... it sounds like it’s lived a hundred years since I saw you this morning. Talk to me. Why are you touching me like I’m made of glass?