The Avatar has returned, tall and bright and grim in the dank surrounds of his lowly prison. Ozai bares his teeth. Aang lowers his brows.
One has too much remorse, and yet, feels that pang, yes, that vicious thrust of anger when the other shows none, absolutely no regret at all- save a few, precious, vulnerable things that he treasures and nurses in his darkest hours alone.
“Why can’t you be someone I can beg for forgiveness from?” the boy says through gritted teeth as he rides him, for boy he still is, even warm and lean with twenty summers behind him.
“Feel free to try- that is one thing you cannot take from me,” the older man says, pinning his hips with bruising fingers and knowing he will feel the stones in his back tomorrow.
Long fingers yank at the silver hair in his temples, and he snaps his gaze up into blazing grey with a gasp.
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One has too much remorse, and yet, feels that pang, yes, that vicious thrust of anger when the other shows none, absolutely no regret at all- save a few, precious, vulnerable things that he treasures and nurses in his darkest hours alone.
“Why can’t you be someone I can beg for forgiveness from?” the boy says through gritted teeth as he rides him, for boy he still is, even warm and lean with twenty summers behind him.
“Feel free to try- that is one thing you cannot take from me,” the older man says, pinning his hips with bruising fingers and knowing he will feel the stones in his back tomorrow.
Long fingers yank at the silver hair in his temples, and he snaps his gaze up into blazing grey with a gasp.