She could still feel the scorching embers that singed her hair and clothes. Sometimes her breath would catch and she’d feel like she were suffocating on the memory of sweltering heat. The Boiling Rock had been a miserable experience both physically and mentally, one she still carried even though she found herself someplace far away from her home. But even though she had been nearly burned alive by the pooling lava that bubbled below, and even though her throat stung after having screamed after that idiot for abandoning her like some forgotten toy, she would have gone through the same motions all over again if it meant he were to escape untouched and alive.
She still remembered that look of pure fury on the princess’s face as she watched her brother escape. She still remembered the sunken feeling in the pit of her stomach when weapons were pulled on her, and the promise of living in absolute despair sentenced by Princess Azula herself. She still wouldn’t have traded it for the world if it meant he went on fighting.
It was bittersweet to think that the last memory she had of him was of him leaving her behind to essentially die. ‘But I didn’t,’ she had to remind herself, and she never blamed him for the circumstances either - not at first anyways. He had still be an ass to leave her behind in the Fire Nation in the first place. Still, what happened at the Boiling Rock, what happened during that argument, her heart torn in two, had all happened for a reason.
She still missed him; she still missed her home. Even if her home had consisted of a too small cell block with a tiny, barred window. She even missed the stiff bed.
For nights on end Mai would reminisce about what did and did not happen. Lost in her melancholy, she would usually hole herself up in her apartment, curtains drawn and lights off. A cup of herbal tea would be her only companion during these tumultuous times until, one day, she realized she ran out of her favorite blend. Store bought tea was horrible and a waste of her time. Instead Mai found that the local cafe in Cestrelle not only served tea but sold bags of their most famous blends.
Thus a trip to Cestrelle was in order.
The day promised light showers with a soft, milky gray and white patterned sky canvased above. Mai took the subway into the city. Her umbrella had been stashed away in her bag just in case. She hated being out in the rain - she hated feeling wet. Still, though the threat of rain lingered, she was determined to return home with a bag of her favorite blend.
Tea Time Cafe wasn’t too busy when Mai walked in. A few patrons sat idle at the tables and only a couple stood in line. She hung back for a moment as she perused the menu.
