[ Gokudera certainly likes to hear himself talk, doesn't he? She doesn't think anyone (but Zuko) has ever forced themselves into her life so adamantly, a surprise considering he knew what she was capable of-- in fact, seemed to welcome the potential of it. There was a lot that bothered her about Zuko sharing intimate details about their relationship, but that wasn't on the bomb boy inhaling wine in front of her desperate for some olive branch. There was a lot of damage knowledge could do, in this case, but it didn't seem like her brother had shared too much even if he seemingly skirted very close. Either way, if he ever returned back to their shared apartment she'd have to make him swear he'd stop talking about her.
Maybe until she was able to piece together all their problems and talk about them together, first. She may be grateful for Gokudera's intervention now, her meeting with her brother could have been far more explosive, but Zuko's obnoxious ability to be swayed easily made her less enthusiastic for any future sharing. ]
The selfish audacity of the two of you is astounding sometimes, truly. Perhaps there are people that exist that do not enjoy airing out all their dirty laundry to the first pair of ears that'll listen.
[ And stop telling her She makes him happy. Azula finally peels herself from the door frame, hesitance in her step as she approaches the counter top to analyze the open bottle of whine. She brings it up to her nose to sniff, having been honest in not partaking in any of it. ]
You're wrong, anyway. I don't make him happy. He feels an obligation to me and I'm holding him back from having the normal life he's always wanted and could actually have here.
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Maybe until she was able to piece together all their problems and talk about them together, first. She may be grateful for Gokudera's intervention now, her meeting with her brother could have been far more explosive, but Zuko's obnoxious ability to be swayed easily made her less enthusiastic for any future sharing. ]
The selfish audacity of the two of you is astounding sometimes, truly. Perhaps there are people that exist that do not enjoy airing out all their dirty laundry to the first pair of ears that'll listen.
[ And stop telling her She makes him happy. Azula finally peels herself from the door frame, hesitance in her step as she approaches the counter top to analyze the open bottle of whine. She brings it up to her nose to sniff, having been honest in not partaking in any of it. ]
You're wrong, anyway. I don't make him happy. He feels an obligation to me and I'm holding him back from having the normal life he's always wanted and could actually have here.