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"I'm like the water when your ship rolled in that night. Rough on the surface, but you cut through like a knife. And if it was an open-shut case, I never would have known from the look on your face. Lost in your current like a priceless wine." ("Willow," Taylor Swift)
Katara looked over her shoulder as she slid her robe down her back. Ever the gentleman, Zuko had turned around and looked down at his feet, making Katara smirk. Playing the blushing innocent made Zuko look ridiculous. If he did peek, he would only be looking at what he'd gazed upon many times before. Katara knew very well that the sly boy owned the painting Master Piando had done of her in a similar state of undress. When she discovered the painting among Zuko's things, he made the excuse that he wanted to spare her the indignity of being lustfully ogled by strange men. Very well. Zuko was the only man she wanted to ogle her lustfully.
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Katara's robe landed around her feet. She picked it up and shook off the gritty black sand that gave Cinder Beach its name. "How far out do I need to swim?"
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