Warnings: Suicide, slighly dark, AU-ish
Word Count: 299
Author's Notes: I know, I know, the theme is so cliche . . . meh.
Mai slowly traces the carvings with a feather touch, shuddering at the lightness of the contact. She gazes ahead, watching a hand that is familiar and yet still foreign tread the course yet again, wearing deeper into the rut she’s gotten herself into over the years.
Such a beauty, they said. She’s been blessed with her mother’s looks. Mai supposed they had been right, once – the full red lips contrasting starkly with the porcelain skin, framed by hair as black as the whispers of the night. Now, all she can see is the additions. The jagged red spiderwebs to her frail, porcelain skin, the lopsided tears to her full red lips, the lightning streaks of darkened flesh scorching off the roots of her whisper-black hair. The tip of her finger continues its automatized path, trailing delicate goosebumps in its wake.
He’d just lost control, one day. Everyone had seen it coming; reformed he may have been, but the anger had built up too much to not spill over, and when it did, it had just kept coming and coming, never seeming to cease. In hindsight, it seemed so unimportant a matter she had confronted him with, so insignificant. It was one too many.
Zuko killed himself a few days later while she was still at the hospital, overridden by shame and guilt. It was only three years after he’d defeated Azula; he was only nineteen. Toph had found the noose in that very bathroom, tied in front of that very wall. He’d probably looked at his reflection in that very mirror just before it happened, tortured by the monster that had been created.
Mai stares at the horrific deformity contorting her face, and she smiles grimly.
Prince Charming may be dead and gone – but he’d left his scar behind.