Concrete - Tokka

Concrete</u>

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The world is made of Earth and Water.
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His hand was soft.

The fingertips she was used to were thick and sensitive. They brushed roughly through her hair, softly against her lips, and she held them tightly. Her sensitive fingers explored his hands—every nook and cranny—the deep lines carved into the skin and even the shape of his palm: perfectly suited for holding a sword or throwing a boomerang. Roughed up, grown over from years of work trying to support a family.

When she punched him, she knew he could handle it because Spirits, he had been through so much worse, and what’s a little teasing? And when she loved him, she knew he loved her back because his touch was gentle and his voice was low, smooth, just for her.

But this new voice, her new companion and partner in life was different. His hands were soft and his words were sweet, but they didn’t mean anything.

Her new boyfriend was perfect. Charming, manly, smart, and he got along great with her parents. All of her single friends were jealous, all vying for his attention or telling her how lucky she was to have such a wonderful guy with her. And it’s not like she hated him or anything—quite the opposite, actually. He was great, and wonderful, and witty, and all of those things everyone else in the world found so attractive.

She was comfortable with him.

But since when did the great Toph Beifong, World’s Most Magnificent Earthbender and Reigning Champion of Earth Rumble 6 ever settle for comfortable? Didn’t she give up her cushy (boring) lifestyle to teach the Avatar her element? Wasn’t she chased all over the world by psychotic Firebending prodigies and their equally messed up sidekicks, only to get about three hours of sleep and be on the road again by dawn?

Since when was her life ever comfortable?

(Since she came home.)

She grumbled and cursed once when she accidentally dropped her chopsticks on the floor at dinnertime. He just laughed and offered to fetch her a new pair. He actually said that—fetch. How funny.

Toph was used to rough-and-tumble things. She was used to shouting and stomping around and cussing people out for absolutely no reason. She loved rolling around and fighting in the dirt, and she thrived in the grime that covered her body and the vibrations that sent tingles through her feet and into her center.

She may have been a young blind girl, but she certainly didn’t think like one. She didn’t want a Prince Charming with a white horse and a painted sunset, or overdone clichés like “falling in love with the bad boy.” She wanted the concrete, absolute, completely REAL deal.

For some reason, she didn’t like this new person and his perfection. She wanted to be able to see into him, see through him, be able to gauge his emotions and watch his every movement while hiding them away in her heart. She wanted to know all of the right buttons to push and all of the right things to say to make him tick. She HATED the dull, placid conversations about her likes or the war or just life in general. It seemed like there was no emotion at all.

And call her crazy, but she missed him. Him him. She missed screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain, and she wanted to be up at two in the morning cursing his name because he just BOTHERED her so much. She wanted to yell at him, to punch him really really hard for no reason; she needed that. She craved that. She wanted to be so in love that it drove her absolutely insane at times.

That was just the way Toph loved Sokka. Not softly, not gently, but hard and thorough and ABSOLUTE. Completely obvious.