#zutaraangst

[burntsecrets]

Market Mischief

Pairing: Zuko x Katara Word Count: 820 Prompt: For Zutara Week 2024 | Day 6: Sweet @zutaraweek Warnings: Mild language, lighthearted teasing, humor, food-related themes, playful banter, minor romantic undertones

The marketplace buzzed with activity as vendors hawked their wares, carts rattled, and children darted through the throngs like mischievous sparrows. Katara weaved through the crowd with practiced ease, her arms laden with an assortment of ingredients for dinner. Zuko followed behind, his expression tight as he kept glancing over his shoulder, as though expecting a surprise ambush from a cabbage merchant.

“I still don’t get why we’re here,” he muttered, adjusting the hood of his cloak to better conceal his face. “We could’ve just—”

“Don’t even finish that sentence,” Katara interrupted, shooting him a pointed glare over her shoulder. “If you think I’m letting you ‘firebend’ our dinner together, you’ve lost your mind.”

Zuko grumbled something under his breath, but his steps quickened to keep up with her. “I’m not bad at cooking.”

“You burned rice.”

“It was one time.”

“And toast.”

“It was...extra crispy.”

“And that pot of tea.”

“Okay, fine!” He threw his hands up. “But it’s not like you’re perfect either. You made soup that was so salty Sokka said he could see through time.”

Katara froze mid-step and spun to face him, a saccharine smile that promised retribution spreading across her face. “Oh, really? That’s how you want to play this?”

Zuko immediately backpedaled. “I’m just saying—”

“I’ll show you ‘just saying,’” she quipped, grabbing a bright red fruit from a nearby stand and shoving it into his hands. “Here. Let’s see if you can even pick a decent lychee.”

He stared at the fruit like it was a bomb about to go off. “What’s wrong with this one?”

“Too mushy. Try again.” She crossed her arms, one eyebrow raised.

Zuko frowned, muttering something suspiciously like, “It’s just fruit,” before exchanging the lychee for another. Katara didn’t even bother inspecting it before shaking her head.

“Still wrong.”

“Are you making this up?” His voice pitched slightly, somewhere between incredulous and irritated.

“Are you seriously questioning my superior market skills?” Katara smirked, taking the fruit from him and swapping it for one from a different pile. “This one’s ripe.”

Zuko squinted at her. “How do you even know that?”

She tapped the side of her head. “Water Tribe instincts.”

“Oh, so now it’s instincts?”

Katara turned on her heel, heading toward the next stall, but Zuko caught the faintest grin tugging at her lips. He scowled, speeding up to walk beside her again. “Fine. Since you’re so good at this, what’s next?”

She didn’t answer, distracted by a stand overflowing with delicate jars of candy. The vendor—a cheerful, round-faced woman—beamed at them as they approached. “Looking for something sweet, young lady?”

Katara nodded politely, her eyes scanning the colorful array. “Just browsing.”

Zuko, however, narrowed his eyes at the jars like they owed him money. “Isn’t this kind of a waste?”

“Excuse me?” Katara looked up sharply.

“I mean,” Zuko said, flailing slightly under her glare, “we’re here for dinner ingredients. Why bother with candy?”

“Why bother with candy?” Katara repeated, her tone somewhere between disbelief and the ominous calm before a tidal wave.

The vendor wisely stepped aside.

“Let me tell you something, Sparky.” Katara plucked a jar off the shelf, full of little sugar flowers, and held it under his nose. “Candy is joy in edible form. It’s a reward after a hard day. It’s the perfect combination of ‘I deserve this’ and ‘Don’t judge me.’ And you, Prince Pessimism, could use some joy in your life.”

Zuko blinked, momentarily stunned. Then his lips twitched, threatening to curve upward. “So…you’re saying I need to eat candy to be less miserable?”

“Exactly!” She thrust the jar into his hands. “Consider it therapy.”

He snorted, a sound so uncharacteristic Katara almost dropped the bag of rice she was holding. “Fine,” he said, unscrewing the jar and popping a sugar flower into his mouth. His expression immediately shifted to one of wide-eyed horror. “This is…this is…”

“Sweet?” Katara offered, biting back a laugh.

“No,” he croaked, clutching his throat dramatically. “This is…too much.” He doubled over, mock-gagging. “I’m dying.”

Katara finally let her laugh burst free, the sound ringing out above the chatter of the marketplace. “You’re such a baby. It’s sugar, Zuko.”

“It’s poison,” he deadpanned, though the corner of his mouth twitched again.

Katara grabbed a flower from the jar and popped it into her mouth. “Mmm. Delicious. Guess I’ll have to finish the whole jar myself.”

Zuko straightened, his eyes narrowing. “Not if I get to it first.” He swiped another candy, tossing it into his mouth with a smirk.

And just like that, the competition began. By the time they left the marketplace, the jar was empty, Katara was triumphantly clutching the last flower, and Zuko—now suspiciously energized—kept insisting he wasn’t going to help clean up the “disaster kitchen.”

“Sweet, huh?” he said, nudging her with his elbow as they headed back toward camp.

Katara rolled her eyes but smiled. “Yeah. Sweet.”

[thinkingisadangerouspastime]

🌹!

a snippet of zukaangst for you... 💛

“How dare you,” Zuko growled, tendrils of smoke and a flicker of fire escaping the corners of his mouth as sparks flew out of his fingertips. If looks could kill, Katara knew his venomous glare would have sent her six feet under. “How dare you suggest that I don’t care about Aang because I have the sense not to take hasty action like you so impatiently want to? How dare you suggest that I’m content with sitting behind my desk and waiting for news to arrive? How dare you suggest that I don’t - that I don’t love him -”