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Nameless

Pairing: Wonwoo x fem!reader

Synopsis: Perhaps you were both fonder of one another than you thought - it only took one night in the city founded on two forbidden lovers for the two of you to realize.

Alternatively, Romeo and Juliet, but make it ATLA :P

Genre: Fluff, crack, some angst, atla!au, Of Flames and Fate!couple, firebender!wonwoo (he bends blue fire!!!), bounty hunter!wonwoo, former general!wonwoo, waterbender!reader, southern water tribe princess!reader, earthbender!jeonghan, old man!jeonghan (jeonghan is oc’s caretaker), my cabbages guy!mingyu, they’re in Omashu

Warnings: Mentions of war/weapons/violence, profanity, food, injury with a cabbage cart, one sexual innuendo at the end, unedited (I wrote most of this at like 3AM 😭💀 I will go back and fix this so it flows better some day–)

WC: ~6k

A/N: For my biggest firebender!wonwoo agenda supporter, @wisteria-woo . She be knew from the beginning ✊

Loosely inspired by ATLA, Love Between Fairy and Devil, and Hotarubi no Mori e.

original drabble || when the sun kissed the moon

. . . .

The screen door slid open abruptly, the bright light of the morning sun spilling into the small room, taking Wonwoo by surprise. A basket of damp clothes in hand, you grumpily pushed past Wonwoo, without a care for the firebender. You bumped his shoulder roughly on your way inside, though it was hard to tell if it was purposeful or out of ignorance. The young man watched you curiously for a moment as you lugged the heavy hamper towards the backdoor.

He figured you must’ve gone to the Common to do laundry at the fountain today and were just making your way back to hang the clothes in the courtyard of the hostel. Wonwoo did find it strange, however; you usually never went to town on your own without him (Jeonghan’s rules – not that he always wanted to nor did he mind these days) and as of late, he had been attempting to be more helpful – washing clothes being one of them.

That said, it was clear to him that you were bitter today – and Wonwoo had an inkling as to why.

Rushing to your side as you stepped over the threshold and onto the porch, he lifted the basket from the bottom to take some of the weight off your shoulders. Immediately, you stopped in your tracks and shot him a scowl.

“Can I help?” he offered you a small smile.

You only scoffed, though not refusing his help. You let go of your side, Wonwoo nearly stumbling forward with the additional weight.

Quietly, the two of you picked the damp clothing and flung them over the free space along one of the wires towards the end of the courtyard. Despite pretending to be interested in the worn beige blanket he had just pinned up, Wonwoo watched you carefully out of the corner of his eye. You were rather efficient today; like a robot only programmed to move from the drying line to the basket, furiously shaking out the clothes and blankets and clipping them to the wire. Your usual gentle and bright expression was replaced with a hardened look, the space between your brows creased. It worried Wonwoo that if you kept scowling for that long, your face might get stuck like that.

Admittedly, it wasn’t a cute look on you.

Silence ensued – only the slight breeze rustling the leaves of the tree overhanging the hostel and the occasional chirp of spring birds in the distance. The hostel was empty for the most part – the innkeeper and his wife were busy at the front calculating last night’s profits and cooking lunch. Most travelers had already taken off in the early hours of dawn and the few guests who extended their stay seemed to have business elsewhere during the day.

When enough was enough, Wonwoo parted an opening past what he thought was Jeonghan’s trousers and one of your overshirts, invading your side of the barrier.

“Can you at least acknowledge my existence?” Wonwoo asked.

Face still stoic, you slumped your shoulders and let out a long, heavy breath.

“Good morning, Wonwoo,” you said monotonously before marching off to your chore.

“You’re still upset,” he noted.

“And what’s it to you, bounty hunter?” you shot back.

“It’s just a silly festival –”

“Stop.”

Your face hardened as you continued to stare at him. As the seconds pass, the corner of your lips downturned into a tight frown, the rage from yesterday clearly still fresh in your heart.

“It’ll be fun!” you tried, leaning over the table, nearly knocking over your bowl of soup. It was fortunate Jeonghan was sitting next to you, the elder earthbender having impeccable reflexes for his age. His hand flew up immediately to slide the bowl back towards the center, sending you a warning look.

While entering Omashu today, Wonwoo had noted the decorations going up around town. The marketplace was bustling, with several merchants selling rich fabric, gold-encrusted pendants, and treats – a rare sight for such exquisite and exclusive items to be sold in such a place. In particular, Wonwoo had noticed the massive array of animal masks hanging in various stalls, some clearly representing animals in the surrounding area, others more artistic and painted with bright shades of blues and reds.

When he had asked about it, Jeonghan had explained the city was preparing for the Festival of the Badger Moles: an annual celebration of the birth of earthbending. Traditionally, people wore masks of the badger mole, but for the sake of festivities, within recent decades it has extended to other animals as well – mostly worn by children. There would be steam carts, live music, dancing, and goods being sold.

To you, however, the Festival of the Badger Moles was merely a legend Jeonghan would tell you stories about for the both of you were never in Omashu whenever it happened. With the nature of Jeonghan’s profession as a freelance welder, the two of you moved around frequently. This would be the first time you were in the city during the festivities and you were eager to experience it.

Though . . . that came Jeonghan’s condition that Wonwoo had to go with you.

“I don’t know, Y/N,” Wonwoo shrank back at your suggestion.

“Why not?” you pouted. “It’ll be a nice break from . . . everything. Time to breathe.”

“It’s . . . dangerous to be around a person like me,” Wonwoo tried to explain.

“You’re with us, right now?” you frowned, not quite understanding where he was coming from.

“No,” Wonwoo huffed in frustration. “Like out in public – in the masses. If you forgot,” he peered around to check for any listening ears and leaned in closer, lowering his volume. “I’m a bounty hunter, discarded son of the Fire Nation general . . . I’m a wanted man.”

You sat back on your heels, finally starting to understand – though, there was a tinge of selfishness in you that night.

“We’ll be wearing masks?” you tried.

Wonwoo only shook his head firmly. “It’s not safe – for me and you.”

You nodded in disappointment, though moments later turning to Jeonghan excitedly, a new compromise on the tip of your tongue.

“No,” Jeonghan shot you down before you could even try. His tone was harsh, but his expression was serene as he sipped on his soup.

“But–”

“My condition was that you’d go with Wonwoo, but Wonwoo doesn’t want to go,” Jeonghan laid out his rationale. “End of discussion.”

“Y/N,” Wonwoo tried. He took a step closer to you, but you took another one back.

“It might just be a silly festival to you, but it’s important to me,” you muttered. You inhaled sharply and squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head to clear your thoughts. “I don’t expect anyone to understand, but it’s whatever,” you waved him off. “I know, Wonwoo – I understand. I’m just . . . upset at the situation, not at you.”

Wonwoo’s footing stuttered again as he extended a hand towards you. He was quick to stop in his tracks, his long fingers curling into a fist. His arm hung in the air a moment longer before he drew it to his side, muttering a quiet apology.

“I just need some space for now,” you mumbled, taking your leave.

There it was again: the sudden urge to chase after you and pull you into an embrace and comfort you. The look of disappointment etching into your features made his heart ache because he knew none of this was your fault, yet you silently suffered the brunt of it. You were kind and carefree – admittedly a little naive at times, but your intentions were good. It was unfortunate out of all people, it had to be you. He only complicated the situation.

Wonwoo wasn’t sure when he grew soft for you, but before he knew it, he was.

However, he knew better than to grow attached.

You were the hidden daughter of the Southern Water Tribe Chief.

He was the renounced son of the Fire Nation General – without a country and title. He was basically demoted to a righteous nomad at best.

At least, nomads had a group of people to call home.

Your lives weren’t supposed to cross; they were meant to run in parallel. Only this once where you needed one another would fate allow it for what seemed like a second in the infinite stream of time.

. . . .

You couldn’t sleep well that night.

You tossed and turned, the mat suddenly seemingly too thin and your mid-back ached from the floor boards. The early summer breeze whistled too loudly through the slits of the walls and did nothing to calm the sweltering heat of your room. It especially didn’t help that you could hear the festivities from the city – the occasional outburst of giggles of groups of girls passing by the inn, sparklers crackling in the distance.

Giving into every little thing making you miserable tonight, you threw off your covers and pushed yourself up in bed and leaned against the wall between yours and Wonwoo and Jeonghan’s room. You twisted the base of your lamp, the flame inside flicking on instantly as you let out a long breath and rested your head up against the wall.

It could’ve been you out there tonight.

Alas, society had bigger plans for you, in which you couldn’t even enjoy the simple pleasures of life.

It wasn’t always like this.

In fact, it was only a few weeks ago when life was still simple: metalworker Jeonghan and his clumsy kid apprentice against the world – or more precisely, most of the Earth Nation. There just happened to be a quiet, but emotional, young man who followed the two of you around for a bit.

You had yet to see the world.

Though it was mundane, on days like this, you preferred it that way.

There was no title of “chief’s long-lost daughter” or “princess” hanging over your head like a market sign painted red; no need to second guess everything you said or did in fear of revealing who you were. You kept your lips sealed and your thoughts locked away in your heart.

The scariest part?

A heavy thud outside your window startled you from your late night musing – it almost sounded like someone threw a sack of potatoes on the wooden porch leading into your quarters. Your thoughts and unanswered questions long forgotten, you spun around to face the screen door and reached for your dagger in the wool knapsack at the foot of your bed.

A silhouette of a man crouched on his knees fanned across your screen door. Jeonghan was always cautious. From a young age, he trained you for moments like this – “surprises” he called them, but not the good kind. How to attack, signals to send if he wasn’t there, where to meet him if they parted ways, etc.

Though you knew it was for your own safety, not until recently, did it occur to you that it was because Jeonghan’s mission was to keep you alive as the Southern Water Tribe chief’s daughter. You begged to differ, but some viewed your life more worthy of gold than others.

Just as you were about to knock against the wall to signal to Wonwoo and Jeonghan, the figure moved swiftly. The door slid open, his figure a blur. You blinked and Wonwoo was in front of you, one finger against his thin lips, and the other resting atop yours that was wrapped around the dagger.

“Wonwoo?” you whispered, your heart sank. Relieved, you sat back on your heels.

“Keep quiet,” he replied. He turned slightly to the room next door.

“You scared me!”

He smiled sheepishly. Realizing just how close the two of you were, he shuffled back to create some space.

“Sorry.”

“What are you doing here?” you asked, eyes scanning his figure. His hair was matted against forehead, his usual form-fitting faded red suit and threadbare brown cloak traded for something a little more . . . familiar. “In Jeonghan’s clothes?”

You stared at him incredulously, the pitch of your voice going up with the end of the question.

Wonwoo peered down at his (or rather Jeonghan’s) outfit, a beige undershirt and loose green vest, and tugged at the front.

“Looks classy, doesn’t it?” he asked cheesily.

You scoffed and looked away.

“I don’t want to waste any time since it’s already late so I’ll cut to it,” Wonwoo stood up, his long legs stretching high above you. Extending a hand in your direction, he tilted his head coyly and smirked. “Wanna go to town with me? For a silly festival?”

. . . .

Despite the festival being half over, Wonwoo had insisted on both of you wearing masks – for safety of your collective identities, of course, not for childish celebratory reasons.

What would society think of the Southern Water Tribe princess running wild with the former lieutenant general of the Fire Nation military?

With the few coins in your silk pouch, you had hastily bought two at the first stall along the dirt road that came into view as you arrived in town: a white fox antelope one with red whiskers for him and a classic brown black badger mole one for you.

Admittedly, however, it was probably a bad decision on Wonwoo’s part as you were impossible to keep track of. The design of your mask was rather unoriginal – it seemed as if every other person was wearing the same one. Not to mention, the straps of his own were thin and slippery, the knot undoing itself in the all the commotion of trying to keep up with you.

You happily bounced from stall to stall in the marketplace, refusing to buy anything since you only had a few coins left, but mouth watering over steam buns and your eyes were wide with desire at colorful silk fabrics – the dye a rare deep shade of green. Over the drums and shouts, He thought he heard you muttering something about it being nice for making a new coat for Jeonghan.

It was cute, but tiresome. Wonwoo wasn’t sure how you had so much energy at such hours of the night. Then again, you had been waiting for this moment your entire life it seemed.

You had taken off again and disappeared into the crowd, just as Wonwoo felt his fox antelope mask slipping off for what felt like the tenth time in the last hour. Annoyed, he pulled it off, holding it by the tails of the ties and ran in the same general direction he had seen you go. He whipped his head back and forth, keeping his eyes peeled for any signs of you. The streak of white in your hair that framed your face was hard to miss most days, but you had tucked it all into a bun and again, that damn badger mole mask.

He grew anxious the longer he couldn’t find you. Each minute that passed meant another meter between him and you. Each meter made it harder to protect you if anything happened. Indeed you were supposedly destined to be a power waterbender, but currently, you were a very bad one. Your powers had been suppressed until recently and even then, you lacked the right scrolls and a competent instructor to harness your abilities to your best potential. Jeonghan shouting, "It's okay – just try again!" was rather not ideal.

Just as he was about to lose it, heat coursing down his arms, threatening to set the square aflame to just clear a way to find you, someone's hands wrap around his wrist. Wonwoo wondered just what beggar had the audacity to bother him now when he was busy.

Turning around furiously, a short but impactful (and loud) lecture prepared on the tip of his tongue, he was met with a person in a badger mole mask. This couldn’t quell his worry nonetheless – he had a fifty-fifty chance it could’ve been you or some annoying kid who lost their parents.

“Wonwoo?” the familiar sound of your voice echoed through the mask. You lifted it to get a better look at him. The sight of your plush lips, immediately bringing him relief. “Why aren’t you – oh!”

The firebender quickly pulled you into a tight hug. His eyes fluttered shut as he let out a breath against the exposed skin between your shoulder and your neck. Goosebumps rose along your spine at the gesture and you stiffened, too stunned to speak. Wonwoo never initiated skinship with you, let alone attempted to get close to you physically and emotionally. During dinner, he always made a point to sit across the table. If you were camping out in the forest, you both slept on either side of Jeonghan. When conversations got too deep into his past, his replies grew curt or he’d politely ask you to change the subject.

When walking up to him earlier, he seemed frazzled . . . maybe he was claustrophobic? Slowly and awkwardly, you raised a hand to pat his back in an effort to comfort him. You tried to look at him to get a better gauge of his mood to no avail.

“Hey,” you said softly in his ear. “You okay?”

Immediately, Wonwoo separated from you and pulled his arms back to his side. That seemed to have been effective enough to stun him back into reality. You noted how his fox antelope mask is sitting in his hand rather than on his face.

“Wonwoo?” you tried again. You took a step towards him.

For the third time tonight, Wonwoo took you by surprise again. He reached for your hand, slipping his fingers in between your own and giving you a tight squeeze. His touch full of affection and reassurance, but his surly expression suggested otherwise.

“Don’t do that again,” he said harshly. He was quick to change his tone when he noticed the frown forming on your face, however. “Just . . . running off and around. I don’t want to hold you back tonight, but I just need to be able to be close to you in case anything happens. Okay?”

You nodded, mumbling a small apology.

“I-I’m sorry for startling you,” Wonwoo stuttered in reply. He wasn’t used to apologizing, let alone for something so seemingly miniscule. “I was just . . . worried.”

It was out of concern, duty, and promise to Jeonghan, yet there was something about the way he held your hand and the tone of his voice that made your heart skip a beat when it shouldn’t have. Your face grew warm realizing he was still holding your hand. You wondered if he could feel the slick of your sweat forming on your palms.

A beat passed with bated breaths, the moment seemed to last an hour though it was fleeting for the life of the party that surrounded the both of you.

Realizing that he was still holding on, you quickly found an excuse to pull your hand away from him. It was nerve-wracking and not good for your heart.

“Let me help you with your mask,” you announced. You peered up at him briefly, offering him a tight smile, then reaching down to take it from him.

Wonwoo complied, nodding slowly and leaned over so you would have better access to his face. You didn’t expect him to come so close; you shrank back on instinct, eyes instantly flying to his lips sitting fingers-width away from yours. You silently scolded yourself for having such a reaction – letting your mind go there. Unconsciously pulling your bottom lip in between your teeth, you lifted the mask to his face, making sure the parts aligned with his face. Your hands reached behind and twisted the strings together. Without much choice, your fingers carded through his hair as you tied off the bow, the tips of his hairs at the nape of his neck grazing against your skin.

“Done,” you announced as you tightened the knot.

He whispered a soft ‘thank you’ and stood up straight again. He reached over and pulled down your badger mole mask over your face. Though you couldn’t see his eyes through his mask, you’d like to imagine his eyes were narrowed in concentration as he adjusted it to better fit your face.

“Shall we?” Wonwoo extended his hand once more.

Your eyes flickered to his hand and then back to him; silently wondering if he was sure about all this hand holding thing.

As if he read your mind, he chuckled heartily and grabbed your hand. He didn’t say anything else; Wonwoo just turned around and gave you a sight tug, urging you to start walking next to him. Your footing stuttered a bit, knocking into his back slightly. You were quick to straighten yourself out and regain your footing to walk properly again.

This wasn’t the night at the Festival of the Badger Moles you were expecting – it was better (though you’d never voice that aloud).

. . . .

“You should wear this one,” Wonwoo said, gently shaking your interlocked hands.

You spun around from the display you were looking at to see him holding a gold encrusted pin with a jade crystal at the end. It was simple, but elegant. He handed it over to you, the accessory much heavier than you expected as you turned it in your palm.

You shook your head. “It’s nice, but I can’t.” You handed it back to him to place it back where he got it from.

“Why not?” he asked.

“It looks expensive,” you chortled. You leaned over and gestured for him to come closer. In a hushed voice you mumbled, “Let alone, would it make sense for a water tribe girl to be wearing a treasured piece from the Earth Kingdom?”

“Nonsense,” Wonwoo insisted. He lifted the pin into the air and admired it himself, a fleeting thought in his mind of how nice it would look in your hair. “You’re basically an Earth Kingdom citizen with how long you’ve lived with Jeonghan.”

“No,” you waved him off. You were growing uncomfortable, your eyes darting to find another attraction to attend to. You spotted a cart of steam buns and took a few steps away from Wonwoo. “C’mon, let’s go get some food.”

Wonwoo pulled you back and slipped the pin into your bun. He was glad you secured the fox antelope mask well. For once, he didn’t have to hold back the stupid grin on his face that seemed to only be reserved for you. He could only imagine how nicely it complimented your complexion. The decoration was subtle, but when the flames of the torch crackled when the heat became too much, the jade glowed prettily and illuminated the gold handle.

He wondered what it would look like under his blue flame.

“Wear it for me then?” Wonwoo asked.

As the minutes ticked by, the longer your hands were interlocked, the deeper you went into the city, the more your masks didn’t seem to be for the sake of privacy and safety, but to shield the feelings that painted both of your faces that neither of you could hold back that night.

Surprise, embarrassment, nervousness, happiness . . . what did these feelings mean altogether?

His words were apparent, yet seemingly cryptic. Each simple gesture and small request felt exponential.

By no means was he getting on one knee and asking you to marry him, but wearing a hairpin by his request felt burdensome – a promise that couldn’t be kept.

Once you left here, you weren’t simply a girl who roamed the Earth Kingdom anymore, but the Southern Water Tribe princess.

When you didn’t reply, Wonwoo plucked it out of your hair and handed it to the stall owner. He pulled out a few coins to pay for it.

“Wonwoo!” you exclaimed, a hand outstretched to stop the exchange from happening. The elderly woman running the shop halted and looked from Wonwoo to you, then to Wonwoo again.

“It’s okay, I’d like to buy it,” Wonwoo explained. When the woman handed it back, Wonwoo perched it in your hair again. “At least for tonight, wear it. It makes it easier to keep track of you.”

Your shoulders slumped over, your heart slowing down for the first time tonight.

So . . . it wasn’t out of affection. Bold of you to think it was.

“I’ll give it back at the end of the night,” you muttered awkwardly.

“No need,” he chirped as you crossed the street.

“But–”

“Consider it a souvenir,” he explained matter-of-factly, though little did you know there was a gentle smile dancing on his lips behind the mask. “A keepsake from a firebender you once knew.”

It was only in the Earth Kingdom where Wonwoo and you could exist just as you are and together after all.

Simply, a firebender and a waterbender.

. . . .

You were a waterbender by birth, but an earthbender by heart.

Wonwoo came to this conclusion as he stood to the side and watched you dance happily with the little boy in the town square. Stepping to the beat of the drums, you held onto the skirt of your tunic and placed your palm gently against the little boy and the two of you stepped counterclockwise. Though there was a lightness to your step, the way you moved your limbs were stiff and poignant, contrary to the fluidity of other waterbenders he has met.

Had he met you under different circumstances, he would’ve never guessed you were one. It must’ve been from years of watching and combat training with Jeonghan, he figured.

As the symbols clanged together, announcing the end of song, you bid the little boy goodbye. Giggling, you ran over to Wonwoo and took him by the crook of his arm and dragged him towards the center.

“Join me,” you told him.

“Y/N, I can’t – I don’t know this routine,” Wonwoo protested. He pulled his arm back, though you didn’t let go.

“It’s simple,” you declared, “I’ll teach you.”

Wonwoo stood stiff and unmoving, pausing. The drum master began to beat his mallet against the canvas of the instrument again, announcing the next song again. You didn’t seem to be in a rush, however. You pulled him closer to the edge of the dance floor, undoing the knot of your mask and pulling it off to reveal shining, hopeful eyes.

“Never heard of a firebender who can’t dance,” you teased.

His eyebrow quirked, shocked that you even remembered.

“If earthbending is about listening to your opponent, firebending is like dancing with the enemy,” Wonwoo explained as he stood next to you, angrily staring at the river – as if you stared hard enough, you could lift a droplet. It was shortly after Jeonghan had revealed the truth of your identity. Though there was still an element of disbelief, part of you wanted to put his word to the test.

“Don’t you have anything you could compare waterbending to?” Wonwoo asked.

“Not when I’ve never met another waterbender,” you grumbled.

“Is that a challenge, princess?” Wonwoo asked in a low voice.

You smirked and took two steps back. Following the other women in the crowd, you curtsied towards Wonwoo and extended a hand for him to take.

And he accepted.

Facing the opposite direction, you stepped in line with him. “Just follow my lead.”

The two of you circled around each other, following the rhythm of the song.

Two steps away, then three steps toward each other. You reached for Wonwoo’s hand, gently settling it in the small of your back in preparation for a spin.

Like a light of a flame, however, the firebender seemed to have other plans.

He pulled you close until your chests were flushed. He leaned in, trying to better see you through the slits of the mask. It was a full moon tonight – he could see the pearl-like orb reflecting off the corners of your own eyes. There was confusion, perhaps fear as well, that glistened in your wide gaze.

Wonwoo didn’t like the way the mask limited his view. Without a thought, he tugged one end of the bow you secured earlier and the mask clattered to the concrete beside the both of you. A sense of satisfaction filled his chest, knowing that tonight, there was nothing in between him and you.

His eyes traced along the bridge of your nose and rested on your plush lips that were held agape. Reaching up, he slowly traced your bottom lip with his thumb, then tapering off to the corner and following the curve of your cheeks.

He smiled – they were warm like his own.

Wonwoo felt the press of your hand against his chest, your throat bobbing up as you swallowed harshly.

“It’s your turn to spin,” you stammered.

He didn’t seem to be listening, mesmerized by something else – or rather someone, though you didn’t want to admit it to yourself. Wonwoo wasn’t holding on very tightly to you; rather, it was more of you who let yourself stay within his embrace, unwavering. When the flute reached its climactic note, you pushed him roughly and stepped away.

He was supposed to twirl in the opposite direction, but his position was less than optimal for the move. His feet stumbled over one another and he sailed backwards as he started losing his center of gravity.

The music ceased as everyone watched on in terror.

There was a sickening crack of a crate, but thankfully, the landing was cushioned. Wonwoo wasn't sure by what, but it was better than landing on the concrete.

"My cabbages!" a husky voice shrieked behind him. It was followed by a string of cursing. Wonwoo could make out the sound of your laughter nearby.

He peeled open his eyes to find himself amidst a pile of wood and well, cabbages.

That would make sense. Cabbage were dense enough to hold his weight, but still soft enough to land a blow.

Wonwoo was rubbing the back of his neck when you suddenly came jogging over and grabbed his wrist.

"Run!" you hissed at him. A grin graced your face, tears from laughter steaming in the corner of your eyes.

For the first time in a long time, Wonwoo was happy.

. . . .

“Try it – they’re tasty,” you explained. You handed him the skewer with the last candied fruit.

He stared at it suspiciously to tease you, before peering up at you again.

“Try,” you giggled, pushing his hand towards his mouth.

After the cabbage cart accident, the two of you had decided to call it a night, purchasing some late night snacks at the edge of the festival and seeking refuge on a hill that oversaw the city. Though the celebration had come to an end, neither of you wanted to go back to the hostel just yet, hoping to hold onto the last few pieces of freedom and whatever was blooming between him and you.

Since then the teasing and the laughter hadn’t stopped; Wonwoo even found himself chuckling along every now and then. The jokes cracked weren’t even funny, perhaps it was the sugar from all the candied fruit you bought, but at some point neither of you really knew what you were laughing about.

Without knowing it, you both were running on giddiness, and just maybe, love.

If Wonwoo could describe it, it was that same fluttery happiness and breathtaking feeling he had when he was seven and had a crush on his friend. She was a blurry memory, he couldn’t even remember what she looked like, but the emotions associated with her were timeless.

“Thank you.”

Wonwoo looked up to find you settling against the root of the tree next to him. You let out a long breath and rested your head against his shoulder. As if it was already second nature, Wonwoo shifted to better accommodate you and lifted his arm to wrap around your shoulder. You snuggled into his hold, molding yourself into his side.

“Thank you,” Wonwoo replied. He pressed his lips into your temple. You tensed at the act, though quick to relax, eyes fluttering shut.

“What are you thanking me for?” you mumbled. “You’re the one who snuck me out.”

Wonwoo hummed softly and looked off into the distance. The torches and lanterns around Omashu made it glow gold, reminding him of the hairpin in your bun. The mailing system was even lined with colorful fabric, he could see. If he was quiet enough, he could still hear the lingering slivers of children shouting and hearty laughters in the distance.

“Just . . . because,” Wonwoo replied. He paused. “I’m happy.”

He felt you snaking your arms around his waist, hands clasping together at his hip.

“Can we just stay like this for a while?” you asked, lazily. “Happy?”

Closing his own eyes, he gave your shoulder a squeeze of reassurance. He relaxed against the tree and huffed.

“Just for a little while.”

. . . .

Bonus:

“A little while” turned into the rest of the evening into the early morning.

You woke first with sun shining through the leaves of the oak tree hanging overhead and blinding your sleepy vision. As you returned to reality, the birds chirping and shouts from the marketplace entering your ears, you slowly started to realize your current predicament.

Wonwoo and you snuck out.

Wonwoo and you spent the whole night together.

Wonwoo and you fell asleep on the hill.

Wonwoo and you didn’t go home.

Jeonghan.

The two of you were so screwed.

“Wonwoo!” you shook the said male, “Wonwoo! Wake up!”

He groaned, raising his limbs to stretch over his head, though his eyes remained sealed shut.

“Wonwoo, we have to go,” you urged, “Jeonghan’s gonna murder us!”

It seemed as if the elderly earthbender’s named held some sort of deadly edge to it as Wonwoo’s eyes shot open and he too began scrambling.

“Not a word about this to Jeonghan,” you warned him as you laced your hands together and took off in a run. “I’m never hearing the end of it if he knew I spent the night with you.”

“You say it like it’s a bad thing?” Wonwoo teased.

“Jeon Wonwoo!”

. . . .

“So,” Jeonghan stroked his beard. He paced back and forth in his and Wonwoo’s quarters while the two of you kneeled before him in apology. “You’re telling me that you woke up at the crack of dawn to go to town for soup ingredients, but you forgot your money pouch?”

“Yes,” you replied curtly. You nodded once, keeping your eyes trained on the floorboard.

“Interesting,” Jeonghan noted and turned to Wonwoo. “You don’t have anything to add, Mr. General?”

“I do not, sir,” Wonwoo answered.

Jeonghan whipped out his wooden cane and pointed it in between your eyes. You startled, though you remained in your kneeling position. In the corner of your eye, you could see that Wonwoo was looking on anxiously. Jeonghan never resorted to corporal punishment with you . . . he wouldn’t now right?

Jeonghan extended his cane a little further and poked at your hip, causing a jingling sound.

Not of bells that decorated your outfit, but rather . . . coins.

“Your pouch is full of money here,” Jeonghan said matter-of-factly.

“Uh, she didn’t have enough,” Wonwoo added.

Jeonghan cocked an eyebrow at the younger man and walked over, poking his hip as well. “And you didn’t think of lending her some? Also, why are you wearing my clothes? I admit, my sense of fashion is impeccable, but flame boy, this doesn’t really suit you.”

The both of you were running out of excuses as Jeonghan waited for a response. Per usual, it didn’t take much for you to crack under Jeonghan’s pressure – even when it was your idea to lie to him that Wonwoo and you went to town in the morning.

“I’m sorry, Jeonghan!” you exclaimed. Your forehead was planted on the ground now. “Wonwoo and I went to the festival without telling you and then we fell asleep on the way home and are just coming home now. I’m sorry!”

There was a long pause before Jeonghan answered, or rather, he laughed at you.

Slowly, you sat up, confused. Wonwoo looked equally as puzzled.

The old man was hacking up a cough now, clutching his stomach in humor.

“D-did I miss something?” you sank back on your heels.

“No, silly girl!” Jeonghan managed to say in between breaths. He did his best to quell his laugh, though his shoulders still bounced happily. Wiping the corners of his eyes, he continued, “I told you were allowed to go if Wonwoo agreed to go with you, didn’t I? I was just pulling at your leg when I made you kneel.”

“Yoon Jeonghan,” you growled, preparing to launch yourself at the old man.

Just as he was about to step out of the room, Jeonghan quickly added, “That said, neither of you are still allowed to sleep with each other as long as I am alive. I’ve never been a third wheel in my life and I’m certainly not starting now.”

"Hey!"

"Yah!"

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