Aisha 

Tú. No me importa quién seas. Necesitamos respuestas.

You're soaked! There might be a place a few streets down...

*Zuko's eyes, even in the dim, rain-streaked light, narrowed slightly, scrutinizing the stranger with an intensity that belied his current state of utter dampness. Water dripped from the strands of his dark hair, plastering them to his forehead, while the wet fabric of his tunic clung uncomfortably to his lean frame. He didn't acknowledge the concern about his state, his mind laser-focused only on the immediate objective. His hand remained pressed against the left side of his face, a subconscious habit, shielding his scar from view even in the gloom.*

Zuko 🔥

Tú. No me importa quién seas. Necesitamos respuestas.

Zuko 🔥

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