Book 3: Fire (Sokka Love Story)

Book 3: Chapter 1: Wake Me Up (Wake Me Up Inside)

Hello, there. *waves nervously* I'm back.

Alright. If I had balls, November would've been kicking me there constantly because lemme tell you, I have now removed November from any calendar. That month no longer exists to me. Fuck you, November.

It's been a month. I have accomplished writing four stupid essays, and too little chapters in this story but fear not, I have any extra tool in my belt: NOTHING TO DO! That's right, folks, I have nothing to do till Jan middle, and  hopefully I'm not a lazy bitch and get serious writing done. 

In other news, I love you all. You've been the perfect readers, patient and kind and so supportive, and it's literally what got me through the "Month That Doesn't Exist." For that, you get an extra long chapter, over 9,000 words. Can you believe it? I know I can't. 

TRIGGER WARNING: In the beginning, there are scenes of blood and a lil bit of gore. Not as descriptive, but it's just to let you know. Also a panic attack or so but it's not super explicit.

And if you know me, there's a lot of curse words.

***

"Sokka, c'mon, just... open your eyes."

"Please."

*

The air smelt charred and smoky, rising in soft grey plumes up to the cavern ceiling. There was a sharp white noise, ringing persistently and it seemed like time took its course as slow as possible, as if it was waiting for a reaction. 

And then it got what it wanted and time sped up instantly, crashing like a wave as the ringing stopped altogether.

No.

Her scream was hoarse and broken. Her heart pounded like a war drum in her chest.

Once her legs were freed by Toph's bending, (Y/n) took off to close the small distance between her and Sokka. 

Something like horror ripped through her at the sight of the scorched, burnt skin of his dark chest that bubbled blisters and bled dark red through blue clothes.

His face was the most damning of all, where he was so usually animated with his expressions - now wiped clean except for the tiniest furrow of his brows as if he was still in pain. 

Sokka should never look like that. 

His lips were parted and when she pressed her ear near them, she heard the tiniest of breaths, just a straggle of a wheeze as if he was holding on by a fraying string.

(Y/n)'s fingers shook as she touched his shoulders. Her eyes stung in the smoky air wisping from half-charred clothes. She shook him lightly, willing for his eyes to snap open.

"Sokka? No, no, Sokka, c'mon."

The tears spilled over and she choked, holding him tighter to her chest now. Her fingers brushed across his cheek and when her tears fell on his limp face, they made trails down his dusty, soot-caked skin.

"Please, don—don't do this to me."

He wasn't waking up. Why—why wasn't he waking up?

Why did he do that? Why did he jump in front of her?