Whirlwind [Avatar Aang]

☁Chapter Seventeen☁

"Bumi used to say that to me, too," she said, fighting through the tears. Her throat burned horribly, and she kept trying to swallow the lump forming in her throat. It wouldn't go away, though. "Thank you for the reminder."

They were silent as they stared out at the city that was finally asleep, finally quiet. Nazadori allowed a few tears to fall down her cheeks, pressure building up in her throat and her head. She was mourning the man that had passed this curse onto her, and she knew the boy sitting next to her was doing the exact same thing. 

"You know, Bumi and I used to ride the mail system together when we were younger," Aang said, his voice echoing softly around them. He stared out at the mail system in front of him, the famed engineering feat that made Omashu a real name for itself. At least, that was what Nazadori always told herself when she was younger. "Him and I were best friends growing up, did you know that? I met him before I froze myself in the iceberg."

"He mentioned it to me a lot," Nazadori said, nodding, swiping the tears away. She recalled the many conversations her and Bumi had about his childhood and everything he missed about it -- especially the little bald monk that turned out to be the Avatar. "He loved to talk about you and how much he missed you."

"I miss him, too," Aang whispered. She glanced over at him to see him hanging his head, so she placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it a few times. "Why didn't anyone notify me when he was dying? Why didn't I get the chance to say goodbye to him?"

Nazadori's chest constricted at the anguish evident in Aang's voice. She had thought that her grief was killing her, but she hadn't realized just how much it was affecting Aang, too. She scooted even closer to him, her stomach jumping as she got a little too close to the edge. "It was so sudden, so quick," she said softly. Her heart ached at the look on his face, the agony in his words. "I didn't have time to notify anyone." 

"Was he hurting?"

"No, I don't think so," she said, shaking her head. She was grateful for that, too. "He talked about you up until his death."

Aang's shoulders shook as he finally let the tears fall. Nazadori wrapped one arm around his shoulders, drawing the boy into her embrace. Her own tears cascaded down her cheeks and into his neck. The pain of losing her mentor rose up in her chest until she couldn't breathe anymore, and she had to let it out before it killed her. 

"I miss Bumi, too," she whispered to him as she pulled away from their embrace. She couldn't see him through her tears, but that was okay. She needed to get this off her chest. "But I'm so angry with him for choosing me to be the queen when I have no idea what I'm doing. The other day, I said that I hated Bumi for choosing me, and I didn't mean it, but I just -- I don't know why he chose me."

"Nazadori, he chose you because you are kind and sweet and so passionate about people," Aang told her, reaching out and taking her hand in his. "You saved that girl from being robbed. You fight for people who aren't able to themselves. That's why he chose you. He knew you would take care of the people and lead Omashu in the right direction."

"Are you sure?"

"I've never been surer of anything else in my life."

Finally, the tears cleared out of her eyes just in time for her to see Aang leaning toward her. Or was she leaning toward him? It didn't matter who went first, all that mattered was that they were kissing. She could taste their salty tears mixing together, but she didn't care right now. All she cared about was holding Aang closer to her. Nazadori felt like she was floating in his embrace, and maybe she was. She couldn't really tell right now, not when his lips were on hers, his hands were running through her hair. She didn't care about anything else.

Aang's hand found hers again, and it was warm, so incredibly in hers as he pulled away from their kiss, and the tear streaks down his face glowed in the soft moonlight. His eyes were still dark, but there was a small light burning in them as he stared at her, taking her all in. A mischievous smile played on his lips that she had just kissed, and her own lips burned in remembrance. 

"When we were kids," Aang said softly, "Bumi used to tell me not to look for him in the everyday things after he died. Instead, he said to look for him in the chaos." He motioned toward the mail system, and her eyes grew wide when she saw an earthen cart sitting near them. When did that appear? She wasn't exactly sure. "I think we should ride it in memory of Bumi."

"You know how much trouble I'd get in," she whispered, squeezing his hand once. But there was that little girl still deep within the walls and rivers she created to keep people out. The little girl wanted to go against the authority holding her down, to follow this boy into the deep blue of the unknown, to create a red sky of delight and happiness. "Do you think we'll get caught?"

"I don't know."

She looked at Aang and watched as his cheeks flared red when he caught her staring. Then, she peeked over his shoulder at the cart, sitting so innocently in the moonlight. She was already in so much trouble; what else could go wrong?

"Let's do it."

Aang grinned at her and stood up. He helped her stand up, too, and they slowly made their way over to the cart. Nazadori climbed in first and sat toward the front, allowing Aang to settle in behind her. She rested against his chest as his arms and legs wrapped around her, and she gripped the edges of the cart, her heart thudding against her chest. And then they were off, his airbending shooting them down the rail. A scream built up in her throat, and the air tore it out. Aang was laughing behind her, and she couldn't help but laugh with him. 

In the soft moonlight, Nazadori let go of the bad feelings, of the rumors, of the fear and allowed herself to have fun with a boy that she had fallen for, Bumi's words about remembering who she was circling around her head until she finally did remember. She held onto that as they flew through the sky like a comet, burning brightly for only them to see and just enough for the moment to last.