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But again, even if he does find a way to mention it β Azula still might not care about the thought he put into that symbolic gesture, because the symbolism was ultimately more comforting for him, even though he's thinking it's all for her. But he's trying... He's never tried as hard as this to be forgiven, barring, y'know, scouring the globe for three years for the longlost Avatar, uh. But that doesn't count, quite. Nor do his series of adventures gaining Team Avatar's trust. Something intimate, personal like this... the closest was begging forgiveness from Iroh, but Zuko barely had to beg. Iroh didn't even let him carry on with the spiel he'd planned when they reunited at the White Lotus camp, interrupted him with a hug without a hint of anger, so he barely had to try at all to be forgiven by his uncle for his greatest regrets. But this... was harder. While the regret may not be as deep as it'd been with Iroh, the audience tonight is... a lot tougher. It's difficult for Zuko to shift his focal points and perspectives; he's in a certain sense kind of innately self-centered, although in a rather neutral way often, even in trying to act selflessly, the way he goes about that act just comes right back to that trait of his, for better or worse. But he's making a big step here, he thinks. Kid's putting his best foot forward, man, he is...
He stands when she speaks to him, leaving his phone aside immediately, awkwardly standing stiff and straight in the middle of the room to respond. He looks like a soldier whose sergeant just walked in β so much for seeming chill about all this... ]
Hi, Azula. How are you? I cleaned the house. And there's a bath drawn for you. Your special water is in the fridge. A-And, uh, I ordered those spicy dumplings we liked! The ones that reminded us of home, from that Chinese placeβ! But they're being slow, the delivery guy's late... Maybe the rain...
[ He trails off, grumbling and mumbling, rubbing his neck nervously at the snag in his plan from the late delivery. Clearly the way he speaks, though, even just starting with "Hi, Azula. How are you?" for crying out loud, he's indeed planned all of that out word for word. He rehearsed a million openings and false conversations out loud while he was cleaning, trying to get a sense for what's the best way to present all this grandiosity, and decided the best approach was just to act very casual about it. So he doesn't even mention the flowers. Yet still for all his planning, "Hi, Azula. How are you?" was what he landed on...? Because it sounds familiar and off-hand and yet is also showing right away he's interested in her wellbeing β that's the lengthy reasoning that led him there, after many other openings he tried out and picked to shreds overanalyzing. He's coming off far more formal than he thinks, though, in his delivery, because he's jittery from rehearsing this moment too much. And probably coming off far more awkward, too. But down to the last detail, the thought is there β however bewildering the thought that's there may be to her. ]
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The princess leans over, balancing on one foot each time she takes a boot off, tossing them haphazardly on the floor beside her. What was he expecting from her, after all of this? The bath is drawn, so she's assuming that's where he wants her first, tilting her head up to watch him again. She exhales, doing her best to loosen her shoulders, trying to enjoy the scents and the attention despite... everything. ]
Thank you.
[ Did he really want to know how she was? Azula raises her eyebrow at him before moving through the living room, happy to peel herself out of wet clothes on her way to the bathroom. ]
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Which is part of why he beats her to it, walking a couple fast strides ahead of her toward the bathroom, door left ajar with lights turned off inside and the sound of water running within, which he cuts ahead of her to turn off, partway shutting the door behind him as he does, but quickly dips back out to let her in. But even while walking up, through the crack in the door from a closer angle as she approaches, candlelight can be seen in the reflection of the mirror. He stops at the doorway once he exits again, completely unnecessary to usher her there like he is, but here they are β and he opens the door for her fully now, pressing it open with his palm flat against the center: revealing cascades of dancing flames, seemingly. He's taken about as many (unscented! he wavered about that but thought it out well!) tea candles as he felt he safely could, and dappled their small bathroom in these tiny lights. They're scattered all over the sink countertop, the back of the toilet, all down the sides of the foot of the bathtub, even a couple strategically placed on the floor... So plus the effect the reflection makes of the many little flames dancing in the mirror, being in the cramped room (that's now probably a cramped room with a fire hazard, truth be told?) has quite the visual impact. What's more than the candlelight surrounding it, though, the bathwater in the full tub is not clear, but a creamy white, freshly stirred up to make it even and opaque when he slipped in to shut the water off. Zuko had tried to think back on beauty shit they did in the palace, wanted to capture some lost luxury from home, even if they no longer have the budget of royalty, either of them... So he took to the Internet on milk baths, which turned out to be surprisingly affordable. He even floated a few random flower blossoms in there (after testing which types float best and leaving the soggy failures in the tiny trashcan by the toilet, because, y'know, they clearly have no shortage of flowers now, though he thankfully left them all out in the other rooms otherwise...) for an added effect. Over. The. Top.
He's also set aside a fresh towel and washcloths and all Azula's beauty products in a neat little pile by the bathside. He doesn't know what's what in her cosmetic routine, but he figured... he'd make it seem extra available to her, at least... He'd never cared for all this pampering as much as everyone else in the royal family, found it all very overwhelming with the pressure to relax and felt overstimulated by the smells and all the oils and lotions left weird tactile sensations on his skin and was just kinda bothered by the intimacy of massages and was always too restless to sit around lounging in hot baths the way that, say, Azula and Iroh could get into... Not for any shortage of trying, being raised with such luxury as the norm β it was just usually other people doing this side of things because it was their job to. But even though it's something he doesn't care for personally, he took a lot of thought and feeling arranging this for her himself now. It's not like they'd had much of this kind of life since being spirited away. Certainly when Azula had nice bathtimes now, she arranged them herself, like anyone else without servants might β and knowing that, Zuko was clearly a little over-eager to do it for her.
Frankly, these past few hours spent on this project really made him appreciate their palace servants a lot more in hindsight. One luxury they seldom had, though, because of servants ready to wait on them hand and foot at all moments, was an option he offered her now: Privacy. He hadn't waited for her to answer "How are you" when he'd asked as soon as she'd entered, but he did care to know, just too focused and eager about the rest of all this, so he asks it another way now, his tone tempered, face soft: ]
...Do you want to be alone?
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The candles are soothing, at least, Azula watching him as she hovers awkwardly in front of Zuko and the small bathroom. She finishes undressing, leaving her clothes in a heap at her feet, combing fingers through tangled, wet locks as she looks past him and to the water. His question is hilarious to her, if only because it was a testament to how little he seemed to understand her, even now. All she ever was was alone, she never wanted to be-- which is why it hurt so much with how quickly Zuko wanted to uproot himself when they argued or fought, like he couldn't wait to be apart from her. ]
No, I don't.
[ She states plainly, golden eyes scanning his face before she brushes past him carefully to avoid stepping on flames, bending over to touch the water in the tub with her fingertips. ]
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[ He says matter-of-factly, as if that hadn't been his plan to begin with... He moves some beauty products he'd set up on the closed toilet seat to the ground so he can sit there rather stiffly, glancing about the room. He can't help his eyes eventually linger on Azula from head to toe, though, standing before him playing with the milky white water. There's something seemingly very soft about her in this moment, watching her fingertips drift over the water, the candlelight dancing across her form, in this odd moment of Zuko's vulnerability more than hers. Zuko doesn't understand her. And he's realized that. That's so much part of what's prompted all of this. He understands himself and extends that empathy, knowing he likes to be alone to relax... but he's learning to expand that point of reference, even if it's still somewhat limited to Azula and Iroh as it's always been. Since being spirited away, though, he's gained a lot of new perspectives. But only in this past week or two, since registering Aang's big reveal, he's started to truly try to consider Azula's perspective another way. He may not be good at it yet but... obviously, he's trying. ]
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She exhales as she steps into the tub, shifting until she's mostly submerged and comfortable, the water warm and soothing enough to force her to ease up all the tension in her body she hadn't yet allowed herself to give up. Zuko shouldn't be forgiven so easily, this had been the first time in months since she'd been genuinely bothered by his words, his actions, the vitriol in the way he said her name. ]
Did you want to say something or just watch me bathe?
[ Azula head rests on the back of the tub, rolling it just enough to put Zuko fully in her line of sight. ]
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[ She could deduce that much, surely, Zuko; so talk. Yet, somehow, now that he's here here with her, all the one-sided rehearsals of this conversation he'd had with his dragon while he cleaned home alone for hours before the moment to talk finally came, seem suddenly not all that useful. He'd just worked himself up. Now he finds himself sitting awkwardly on a toilet with his hands on his knees surrounded overwhelmingly by his own efforts and words aren't coming to him as easily as he'd imagined they would when the time came. He'd had no problem holding his tongue when he'd confronted Azula about their mom, their future, and he's determined to be a better listener this time around; the irony that he's trying to apply this warped wisdom to how he acts when he's apologizing is lost on him still, though. ]
...How have you been?
[ It's a simple enough question in his words, but something in his tone, the heavy weight of his voice asking it, the furrow of his brow and the way he glances at her, speaks to something far less simple. ]
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He's giving her such a look she know that his question won't be satisfied by such a simple gesture, so she lets out a heavy sigh instead. Fine, Zuko, you can have what you want. ]
I've been fine. I'm not the one with the problem.
[ Happy, now? Though admittedly, it had hurt how he'd been with her, talked to her, so much so that it was overwhelming what he was doing now. She didn't like this game, awkwardly flitting about each other with all their trust issues spilled out before them, uncertain to move closer or back from one another even when they both knew all they wanted was their strange love to be acknowledged and accepted without all the fuss. It never could be easy between them, a blessing and a curse, really, each of them a short fuse that could be lit by what seems like literally anything in any moment. ]
That's what this is about, right? Your problem?