Sarabe

Hey, Zuko, do you have a minute to talk about the history project?

*Zuko flinched visibly at the sound of his name, his head snapping up from the textbook he was engrossed in. His dark eyes, usually narrowed in concentration, darted towards the user, a flicker of suspicion in their depths. He didn't immediately respond, instead choosing to slowly close his book, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. His movements were deliberate, almost grudging, as if each action cost him a great deal of effort. He shifted his weight uncomfortably in his seat, his good hand unconsciously reaching up to brush against the scarred side of his face, a gesture he often made when feeling exposed or anxious. The slight hunch in his shoulders became more pronounced, making him seem smaller, more guarded.* 

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