Zuko laid flat on his bed and held his arm towards the ceiling. He twirled it around watching the patterns that decorated his hand and arm dance. He smiled, remembering Katara's relaxed expression as she doodled aimlessly on him during study hall, having run out of space in her notebooks to draw.
Zuko was surprised when she asked if she could draw on him. They had just made amends after a rocky start and Zuko didn't want to break her fragile trust, so he hesitantly agreed.
Katara drew swirls that resembled waves interconnecting each other. The pen softly touched his skin, sending tingly sensations up and down his nervous system. He bit his lip to keep from laughing as he watched the artwork unfold before him. Katara let out a small smile, like she knew he was repressing giggles.
It was nice to sit there with her and enjoy something so intimate yet innocent. Zuko hadn't felt such contentment in years.
Study hall went by quickly.
Now he was shut away in his room, replaying the events from earlier that day. Zuko knew he had to wash off the ink before father saw, but he couldn't bring himself to.
Not yet, anyway.
Watching the ink twirl and pop off his pale skin made his heart feel fluttery and body weightless. He was so glad Katara liked him enough to do this to him.
Maybe tomorrow he could return the favor.