Asami's an art student freezing her but off in a cafe, trying to decide whether to try sketching with her nearly frozen hands when a pair of pink mittens decide to make their entrance.
The quiet hustle and bustle in the cafe was comforting to Asami as she sipped her coffee.
Her freezing hands clutched the little paper cup with an urgency that seemed to permeate throughout her whole being.
It was the middle of winter, it was freezing outside, and her gloves had gone missing.
So, while the rest of her body was relatively warm, her hands felt like ice.
She sighed as she sat down, reveling in the warmth of the cup, content now that her hands were regaining feeling.
She cupped her hands and blew on them as she contemplated pulling out her sketchbook; the cafe was always as good place to get inspiration, all the people conversing around her, the mother holding her daughter’s hand, the med students studying frantically for their exams, the couple gazing lovingly at each-
"Is this seat taken?"
Asami jolted, her thoughts interrupted.
Pink mittens.
The man standing next to her.
He was wearing pink mittens.
And not just any pink mittens.
They were hot pink mittens.
Asami could’ve sworn they were glowing.
Pink Mittens cleared his throat.
"So is this seat taken?"
Asami blushed as she realized she had been sitting there ogling his pink mittens while he stood there juggling what looked to me a rather large stack of papers and three coffees.
"No, no," she exclaimed, "No one’s sitting here, please feel free to."
"Thanks," he grinned, moving to sit down, "The cafe is so full, and I would’ve ended up sitting on the floor if you hadn’t-"
He watched in horror as one of the cups of coffee slowly started to teeter, started to tip, and was about to fall, when Asami plucked it, and one other coffee out of his arms and set them on the table.
"It was no problem," she smiled, "But really, d’you think you’ve got enough coffee there?"
Pink Mittens set his papers and coffee down on the table and rubbed the back of his head awkwardly, his pink mitten messing up his already mussed hair.
"I went to bed really late last night, and I completely forgot that these papers needed to he handed next week, and I wanted to finish grading them by tomorrow wo I would have the rest of the weekend off, but they all still need grading, and it’s really just a mess. So I’ve gotta stay awake and grade these and I’m really just panicking and it’s a mess and I don’t know if I’ll be able to finish grading them all and I think I might just shut up now."
Asami giggled. “Student teacher?” she asked him, still smiling.
"Mhmm," he nodded, "Professor Katara’s a friend of my Graddad’s, so she holds me to really high expectations. But she’s really nice, and her BioMed classes are a lot of fun."
"Wow," Asami said, "She’s such a great person, you’re so lucky to be able to student teach for her. When I was little, I used to go running to her house whenever I found an injured animal. She always took the animal from me, and doctored it as best as she could. She never got mad at me for running to her house screaming for her because some lizard crow’s wing was broken."
Pink Mittens laughed.
"That sounds like her, all right."
Asami nodded, rubbing her hands together to get some warmth in them again; her coffee had gotten cold, and her hands had started to feel numb again.
Blushing, she blew on them, trying valiantly to feel a little warmth in her hands.
Pink Mittens noticed her efforts and pulled one of his mittens off, reaching for her hand.
"Your hands are freezing!" he exclaimed pulling his other mitten off, "Give me your hands."
Asami looked at him shell shocked.
"What?"
Pink MIttens shook his head, and grabbed her hands, warming them between his.
"You have to keep these warm!" he scolded her, "Your hands felt half frozen!"
Asami blushed even harder and bowed her head.
"My gloves’ve gone missing, and all the clothes shops on campus are closed because of the holiday weekend."
Asami felt her hands warming up quickly between his, and let him know.
"My hands," she murmured, "I can feel them again."
Pink Mittens shook his head.
He grabbed one of her hands, and one of his mittes, gently slid her hand in it, and repeated the process with her other hands.
She started to protest.
"But your hands will freeze!!"
Pink Mittens shook his head again, and held up a finger.
He turned and pulled out another pair of hot pink mittens from his back pocket, and slid those on his hands.
"My Uncle Bumi likes pink winterwear," he explained, his cheeks stained red.
"I- I don’t know how to thank you," Asami murmured gratefully, her eyes trained on the table in front of her.
"Well, if you wouldn’t mind all that much, I’ve got two tickets for the movies tomorrow, and no one to go with. If you would come with me, I’d be much obliged."
Asami laughed at the forced Southern accent that Pink Mittens tried to adopt.
"When’s the movie start?"
Pink Mittens’ eyes widened. “So you’ll go with me?”
Asami nodded, grinning.
"Well, the movie starts at 6 tomorrow evening, so-"
"So I’ll meet you here at 5:30," Asami said, her eyes twinkling with unvoiced laughter.
Pink Mittens nodded. “5:30 it is then.”
Asami stood then, grabbing her bag and walking towards the entrance, placing a hand on Pink Mittens’ shoulder as she said goodbye, and that she’d see him tomorrow.
As she was walking away, Pink Mittens stood abruptly and ran after her, grabbing one of her mitten-clad hands in his.
"I never caught your name," he said.
"Asami," she murmured, "My name is Asami."
"Well Asami," he replied, "My name is Iroh, and it’s very nice to meet you."
And as he bent his head to kiss the top of her mitten-clad hand, Asami felt her cheeks flame almost as pink as her mittens.
"I’ll see you tomorrow then," Iroh murmured, gently releasing Asami’s hand.
"Bye," was all she could get out, as she watched Iroh turn back into the coffee shop.
Across the street, Katara had watched the proceedings, a huge smile on her face.
She had forced her son, Tenzin to tag along with her escapades.
"You planned for that to happen, didn’t you?" he asked, turning to his mother with a quizzical look on his face.
Katara shrugged. “It would’ve happened sooner or later,” she murmured.
And as Asami walked away, a huge smile on her face, Katara knew she had done the right thing, suggesting that her student teacher finish grading the papers at the cafe.
I feel like there's a very low chance that Iroh the Second could be Azula's son or something. He looks too young to be Zuko's son, assuming he should be around Lin or Tenzin's age.
Imagine this: Azula somehow is admitted from the mental asylum - Iroh wouldn't be General if she escaped - many years after and Zuko kept her in the palace, but on constant watch. She had a child, much later than everyone else, but decided she would not be a fit mother, or afraid that she would treat her child like her own mother treated her, and left her baby to Zuko.
Zuko then names this child after the man who was more of a father to him than his own - Iroh. Iroh grows up to believe he is Zuko's son, and the Fire Lord's younger brother.
Lin Beifong's bending taken away. Why the fuck do they do this to us.
It'll be okay Lin. I don't know how I can deal with this. Fuck. It's so fucking depressing. Truly a martyr (sorta).
And damn Dante Basco. At least try and change your voice. Sheesh.
