A/n Tahno fic for @Dayelight based on the fanart I have included by the amazingly talented Viria. Thanks again to @sirynity for finding it for me :)
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The door to the apartment flew open and Tahno stepped in, trudging solemnly to the bed. He stopped when he caught a glance of himself in the mirror.
Spirits, I look awful... he thought. And he wasn't wrong. With a defeated hunch in his posture, an unnaturally pale color to his face, deep bags under his eyes, and hair that hadn't been touched in weeks, his appearance rivaled that of a homeless man.
A few weeks ago, that might've bothered Tahno. After all, his appearance had always been important to him. It was why he spent thirty minutes waterbending his hair to perfection every day before he went out. Now that he'd lost his bending, though, he lost all motivation. Nothing really mattered to him anymore. He'd hoped the healer he had just seen would have been able to help him, but once again the result was failure.
It's hopeless... he told himself once again. His eyes clenched shut and his fists curled into balls. This couldn't happen, he wouldn't let it. He couldn't lose everything he was!
Before he knew what he was doing, his fist was in the wall. With a gasp, Tahno yanked his limb from the hole and stumbled backwards. He landed bloody-knuckled on his backside on the purple carpet, feeling something wet with his left hand. His eyes followed. He'd stuck his hand in a wet spot on the carpet where he'd flipped over a bowl of water in frustration. Evidently, it hadn't dried since he left.
Once again his desperation swelled. He grabbed the bowl and filled it with tap water, then sat cross-legged on the floor, bowl in front of him. For a few minutes he tried meditating, like he did when he was first learning to bend properly. When that did nothing, he plunged his hands into the water, reaching out to it, trying desperately to feel it in his soul as he once had. It reddened slightly as his bloody knuckles were soaked.
"Bend," he muttered, splashing the water in the bowl, "Bend!"
Tahno cupped his hands and scooped up a handful of water. A tear slid down his cheek and landed in it. He held it near his heart, trying once more to feel it. But there was nothing. Only an aching dryness that wouldn't be parched.
His frustration mounting, Tahno slammed both hands into the bowl. The tears ran freely now as the bowl shattered. Blood mixed with water on the carpet, but he didn't care. His life had no point now, anyway. What was a broken bowl and a couple of bloody hands?
What was the desert of his life with no water?