Work Text:
When Suki was five, she tried to feed the geese that landed in her backyard. And she had been so careful too; she didn’t make any loud noises, she walked slowly with the bread in her hand.
And the geese ate the bread.
And as soon as the bread was gone, one of them bit down on her hand.
Hard.
Suki didn’t cry because, well, it took a lot to make her cry and that goose certainly didn’t deserve to be one of the few things on the list that made her cry. But she was a kid, so she screamed.
When she was nine, she was hanging out with her friend Haru at his house. Haru had a large dog which Suki didn’t really mind.
At least, until the dog kept rubbing his face against her neck and she accidentally elbowed him in the face and the dog felt threatened so he bit her arm.
Hard.
Suki never went back to Haru’s house after that. If he wanted to hang out, they were at her house, school, or anywhere that dog wasn’t.
When she was eleven, her class went on a field trip to the petting zoo and they got to go and pet the horses. Suki didn’t want to go, her experiences with most animals had been so iffy up until that point that she wanted to opt out. But, if she didn’t go then she would have to write a three page essay about animal nutrition and she would rather not.
So, she stayed as far away from the horses as she could while all of her classmates pet them.
But that wasn’t enough, apparently, because when her back was turned, one of the horses started charging towards her with no intent of stopping. The only reason she was able to fling herself out of the way in time was because Haru had yelled her name.
She will never forget the two seconds where she and the horse made eye contact, and she stared into those beady black eyes and saw a thirst for blood.
Throughout high school, she was plagued with animal accidents.
Birds pooped on her head three times alone in the span of her sophomore year.
Her junior year, one of the school’s snakes accidentally got out of its terrarium. In a school of 2,000 people, the snake had managed to find her and had wrapped itself around her leg. Anyone in her situation would have panicked, and sure, hitting it with her oboe might have been a bit of a drastic response, but she immediately went into fight or flight and chose fight. Being struck on the head inevitably led to even more violence, and Suki was soon sent to the nurse’s office with a snake bite (not venomous, thankfully).
A stray dog had run onto the marching band field during practice her senior year and had instantly raced towards her. And she’s not exaggerating. Haru continued to tell that story even in college, finding great pleasure in telling everyone how Suki had been prepared to use her saxophone as a weapon (not that it had come to that because she backed away as soon as the dog’s eyes met hers).
So, naturally, Suki stayed away from animals the majority of her life.
Until she met Yue in college and she fell.
Hard.
They met through Suki’s classmate Sokka, a boy her age that she met in art history class (which they both had chosen to take for their required “fine arts” credit). He was a mechanical engineer major and she was a computer science major, so they clicked.
Yue was an animal science major, he had told her. And Suki immediately mentally told herself to not interact with her because anyone who likes animals enough to major in them was bound to be trouble.
And trouble Yue was.
Sokka’s boyfriend Zuko (a junior, just a year older than them) invited her and some other friends over for a game night at his house her sophomore year of college. That’s when she met Yue. Suki can honestly say that she was the prettiest girl she had ever laid eyes on.
With waist-length dark brown hair braided at the front, brown eyes so deep she felt as if she could fall into them and would be content to never resurface, her nose peppered with freckles…
Yeah… Suki was screwed.
Sokka didn’t make the night any easier. He thought he was sly (he wasn’t, he really wasn’t) and kept making faces at Suki and then nodding at Yue then did this weird thing where he wiggled his eyebrows. If Suki hadn’t become best friends with him over the past year and learned how to speak Sokka, she wouldn’t have picked up what he was throwing down.
Most of the group, save for Zuko’s sister and her two friends, ended up staying the night. Katara and Aang had passed out on the couch; Jet, Zuko’s roommate, had fallen asleep on the armchair with Haru resting on his lap an hour ago; Toph had claimed Jet’s bed as soon as he was out; and even Sokka and Zuko had wandered off to Zuko’s room. Suki had made camp on the floor next to the couch. It wasn’t the most comfortable thing she’s ever slept on, but it wasn’t the most uncomfortable either.
Still, though, she could not sleep. Maybe her thoughts were plagued by the pretty girl laying against the wall, or maybe it was the sound of Haru softly snoring that kept her up (though, she was leaning more towards the former and she would absolutely smack Sokka tomorrow for bringing this upon her). Either way, she was tossing and turning for at least an hour before she gave up and just laid on her back.
“Hey, are you awake?” a soft voice asked.
Suki shifted to her side and saw Yue laying on her side a few feet away.
“Oh, sorry. Did I wake you up?”
“Nah,” replied Suki in a hushed voice. “I’m just not tired right now.”
“Me neither,” Yue said. In the dark, Suki could just barely see her brown eyes flicker to the door and back to her face. “You want to sit outside for a couple minutes and look at the stars? I’m bored.”
A part of Suki’s brain was short circuiting because pretty girl wants to look at stars with her and that’s the most sapphic thing that’s ever happened to her. “Yeah, sure.”
Quietly, the two girls untangled themselves from their blankets and tip-toed to the front door. Yue slowly opened it, and together they stepped into the night.
Yue plopped down on the front porch, patting the spot next to her. “Suki, right?” she asked as Suki sat next to her, speaking a bit louder now that they weren’t in a house filled with sleep deprived college students.
She nodded. “Yeah, Yue?” The darker haired girl nodded as well. “I’ve heard great things about you. Sokka loves you, you know?” Suki chuckled.
“Aw, that’s sweet,” giggled Yue, and in the light of the moon, Suki could see a pink hue forming on her cheeks. “I’ve heard raving reviews about you too.”
“I’m flattered,” sighed Suki, placing a hand over her heart. They sat in silence for a second. “So, you’re an animal science major?”
“Yes!” exclaimed Yue excitedly. “I want to focus more on marine life than anything, I love fish. Actually, there was this story I heard once about these two fish, Tui and La! They’re the moon and ocean spirits and they swam together, always in a circle. It’s actually what got me interested in fish!”
There was a sort of warmness in Yue’s voice as she continued talking, the kind of warmth that drew her in like a moth to a flame. And Suki found that she didn’t mind listening to Yue talk about Tui and La, even though she wasn’t the biggest fan of fish either (no matter what Jin says, she’s positive her stupid goldfish, Zhao, kept glaring at her every time they made eye contact).
“-- and there’s so much more we could do for fish and the ocean!” Yue finished, throwing her arms in the air for emphasis. She glanced at Suki, who just realized she had been staring, and quickly covered her mouth with her hands. “Oh my gosh, you didn’t even ask me why I chose my major! I’m so sorry! I have the tendency to ramble if no one stops me!”
Suki shook her head, laughing. “Well, I can see why Sokka gets along so well with you! But, seriously, I don’t mind. Isn’t the reason we chose our major like our superhero backstory or something?”
Now it was Yue’s turn to laugh. “And now I see why Sokka gets along so well with you,” she joked. “But for real, I got ahead of myself. Not too many people are interested in my many stories about fish.”
“Seriously, it’s totally fine,” she assured. “Besides, I don’t think I’ve ever heard that story before. Fish are… something, aren’t they?” Really, she wasn’t sure what to say next because she hated fish (no, really, Zhao the fish had it out for her-- no one believes her, but he did! How else can anyone explain why he tried to eat her finger when she stuck her hand in his tank to clean it while Jin was on vacation?) and she also just realized how close she was sitting to a really pretty girl.
Yue glanced at her quizzically for a second and then grinned. “Oh, you’re the girl that doesn’t like animals, aren’t you?” she asked.
Suki groaned. “Did Sokka really tell you about that?”
“Don’t worry, he only mentioned it a couple of times,” said Yue. “He was talking about wanting to get a dog or something but said that his friend Suki would never speak to him again if he did.”
Suki opened her mouth to protest, but closed it. “That’s a good point, actually.” Normally, she would have gone into a monologue about why exactly she doesn’t like animals, but she actually wanted this girl to like her and trash talking animals to an animal science major didn’t seem like the smartest move (because mentioning any of the animals that had come for her would inevitably lead to trash talking them). So, she kept it brief instead. “I just don’t like the fur and you have to spend a lot of money on pets and a lot of time cleaning them and taking them on walks and pets just aren't for me,” she explained. It wasn’t a lie, not really. Just… a third of the reason why she doesn’t like animals.
“I get that,” Yue nodded. “I have a cousin who feels the same way. It didn’t help that she was super allergic to dog and cat fur, though.”
Suki hissed. “Yeah, glad I don’t have that problem.”
“You’re a computer science major, right?”
“Yes, I am!” Suki affirmed proudly.
“So, what made you choose to major in that?” Yue questioned.
Suki bit her lip to keep from snorting. “Honestly? It was partially done out of spite. Some boys from my high school kept on talking about how girls weren’t supposed to be good at tech or computer science and how that was a boy’s field of work. So, I beat the misogyny out of them.”
Yue’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Literally or figuratively?”
She flexed her left arm for emphasis (and to show off her muscles but that’s besides the point). “They also said wrestling was a boy’s sport.” She drew her arm back to her side, wiggling her brows.
“Oh my gosh, I love that!” Yue exclaimed, her eyes shining. “I hope you actually enjoy your major, though. I’ve heard computer science is hard.”
“Oh yeah,” whistled Suki. “It’s hard but I like it. Definitely worth the aggravation… I think?”
Almost by chance, the two girls tilted their heads at the same exact time and they made direct eye contact. They immediately fell into a fit of giggles.
Yue sighed, a wide smile spread across her face as she turned to look at the sky. “It’s so pretty out tonight,” she marveled. “I think the waning gibbous might be my favorite phase of the moon.”
Suki blinked. “Huh?”
She watched as Yue extended her arm towards the sky, pointing at the planet above them. “Waning gibbous, that’s the phase the moon is in tonight. So, waning means that the moon’s getting smaller and gibbous refers to the shape. See how it’s not quite a full circle?” The darker haired girl was gazing at the moon fondly. “I think it’s the prettiest phase, but it can also be looked at as a metaphor for forgiveness or letting go of your troubles. I think we all need that reminder sometimes.”
“That is beautiful,” whispered Suki. But she only partially meant the moon. Yue was beautiful too, unknowingly basking in the moonlight, exuding what looked like the purest form of passion and love. “It really is.”
They started dating three months later.
They had kept in touch after that night on Zuko’s front porch. It started as simple as texting every night and then grew to getting coffee in the mornings, studying in Suki’s room in the afternoon over lunch, and watching cringey television together in the evening.
They had fallen into a sort of routine after two weeks. They would get coffee at The Lotus Cafe (a dining hall halfway between their dorms) and then Yue would walk Suki to her first class (early on they figured out that Suki was an early riser and preferred having early morning classes and that Yue was a night owl and refused to take classes before 10am). They would meet for lunch at Piandao Dining and Suki would walk Yue to her classes afterwards, since she was usually done by 1pm.
It became familiar, nice. Something to look forward to every morning. Suki thought fate had truly brought them together, and since the only reason she had any suspicions that fate was even a thing was that animals always went into death-mode every time they saw her, that was saying something. It was true, though. They got along so well that on the outside it appeared as if they were childhood friends.
Talking to Yue was easy, smooth. Yue had told her that her parents had homeschooled her for most of her life, something that stunted her social growth, so making friends was hard for her.
“I don’t know what it is, but talking to you comes as naturally to me as breathing,” she had once admitted, her cheeks a light pink. “You’re just so easy to talk to.”
“Yeah,” Suki had breathed. “You are too.”
And Suki had never been bad at making friends. She was outgoing, confident in her abilities, she liked to think she was friendly. But she had never bonded with anyone as quickly or as intimately as she had with Yue. She felt like she could share anything with her, and she knew Yue would never tell a soul.
“My parents got divorced when I was in high school,” she told the darker haired girl when she gained the courage (because admission and processing feelings she wasn’t fond of did not come easily). “I mean, it wasn’t that bad, but. I don’t know. They fought in front of me like all the time. Sometimes, I feel like I lost both my parents to the divorce.” And she didn’t cry, because she wasn’t a crier; she didn’t cry easily. But Yue had given her a hug so strong and warm that Suki felt safe.
“I know you don’t like fish that much, but I was rereading the story of Tui and La yesterday, and it reminded me of us,” Yue had spoken up during a study session.
“Hmm?”
“You know, like push and pull,” explained Yue, laying on her bed with her feet on the wall and her head dangling over the side by Suki. “Two halves of a whole.”
And Suki thought maybe she could get over her hatred for fish (but never for Zhao).
At first, Suki tried to push her ‘very attractive girl’ instincts out of the way because she valued their friendship so much that she would rather live in the pain of not being able to kiss Yue than the pain of losing her altogether. But she kept falling harder and harder. Yue was just as, if not more, beautiful on the inside than she was on the outside.
All it had taken was a few words of encouragement from Sokka for Suki to finally do something about the feelings she’d been harboring. She had never been one to beat around the bush, she had never been timid, and Sokka’s statement of “Yue definitely likes you, dude” was that last little push she needed. And, she learned, neither was Yue. It was a mutual ask, she supposed. They didn’t magically say those special words at the same exact time, but as soon as she said them, Yue had playfully slapped her arm and told her that she was planning on asking her out in a couple of days.
So, Yue said yes and then asked Suki out as scheduled. She said yes too.
(and neither girl thinks that Sokka will ever stop peppering in the fact that he introduced them, that was the second thing he said after expressing how happy he was for them when he found out they were official. As much as they joke, neither of them really mind. They’ll take a lifetime of Sokka mentioning he introduced them to having never met any day)
Suki had never been happier.
Eventually, she felt the need to tell Yue the actual reason behind her weird thing with animals, because who wouldn’t feel obligated to tell your animal science major girlfriend that animals hate you? It might have been partially because she wanted to be able to rant about the geese that crowded campus or the dogs that glared at her when she passed by (they did!), but that deep part of her brain that she’s always tried to ignore told her that it was better to be honest about genuinely not liking any animals now so she doesn’t ruin their relationship in the future. Yue was an animal science major after all.
Yue had laughed so hard that she had to wrap her arm around Suki to stay upright when she told her. “I kind of figured,” she had said. “Look, you probably just had some really unlucky animal interactions. I promise you that not every animal you ever meet will bite you, chase you, or try to maim you, love.”
Obviously, that was not true because they knew what they were doing. It was like a conspiracy or something. But, they had just started dating so there was no point in bringing up the fact that Suki was 99% positive all animals in the world had a mutual hatred for her.
“That’s what they want you to think,” had been Suki’s joking reply.
Yue rolled her eyes but leaned into her when Suki kissed her cheek. “Really, though. I’d never let anything as insignificant as you not liking animals break us up, okay? You do have some pretty valid reasons.”
Suki let out a breath of air. “Didn’t realize I needed to hear that. Thanks, babe.”
“Always,” she mumbled, returning her kiss (and it was so tender, such a soft kiss filled with genuine love and adoration that made Suki feel like she could melt). “And don’t worry, I’ll protect you from the mean dogs and the evil fish.”
“Mm, don’t forget the horses, babe.”
“And the horses, love.”
It was five months into their relationship when they decided to go for a walk off-campus. There was a pond next to a short trail about a six minute drive away. To Suki’s dismay, the pond was surrounded by geese. Like. Surrounded. There was a barrage of them standing in a line by the entrance to the trail.
Suki narrowed her eyes on instinct, tensing. But Yue gave her hand a gentle squeeze and began leading her towards the flock.
As they approached, one of the geese waddled up to Yue and rubbed its head against her leg. Well, it was more of bonked its head rather than rubbed. Her sweet, sweet girlfriend giggled, letting go of her hand for a second (and if Suki took that as an opportunity to step away from her enemies, no one needed to know).
Suki watched as Yue crouched down, sticking a hand into her purse and pulling her lunch out. She opened the container with her sandwich and tore some of the bread crust off, placing it on her palm and extending it to the goose.
The greedy little over-sized duck lowered it’s beak, and Suki refused to take her eyes off of the devilish creature as it started to eat the crust. “See,” Yue said, making goo-goo eyes at the goose as it pecked away, “it’s friendly, Suki.”
“You say that now,” she hissed, glaring at the creature next to her girlfriend, “but that’ll change when it bites you.”
Yue snorted. “It’s not going to bi-- ow.” She withdrew her hand as soon as the goose bit her, straightening her legs and taking a couple steps backwards.
And Suki saw red. “Don’t you dare bite my girlfriend you greedy scumbag!” she screeched, sprinting towards the goose and standing between it and Yue.
“Suki-- it’s-- Suki!”
She relished in the squawk the goose let out when her foot connected with its face. “Ha, that’s right! Who’s the baby now?”
They never did go on that walk.
Ten minutes later, they were sitting on Yue’s dorm room bed, and her girlfriend was disinfecting the multiple teeth mark wounds on her arm.
“I told you animals hate me.”
“Maybe the geese hate you because you kicked one of them.”
“It bit you!”
Yue sighed. “Hun, it probably just bit me because it didn’t like us loudly talking to each other. I was right in front of it and I was shouting since you were further away.”
Suki hissed as Yue dabbed the disinfectant on a particularly tender spot. “Sure, but I still have no regrets. You’re my girlfriend! Of course I’m going to defend you!”
Again, Yue sighed (a very common occurrence). “I appreciate the sentiment, but it was a goose. One singular goose. I barely felt it.”
Instead of responding, Suki resorted to pouting, jutting her lower lip out with a huff. “I just really don’t like geese. You know one--”
“--bit you as a child, yes, love. You’ve told me many times,” interrupted Yue, doing her best to stifle her laughter. “And you’re allowed to dislike geese, most people hate them, you know.”
“Good.”
There was a moment of silence as Yue disinfected and bandaged the last bite mark on her arm. “If it makes you feel any better, I hate geese now too.”
At that, Suki perked up. “Really?”
Yue smiled fondly at her, carefully raising Suki’s left arm to her face. She delicately pressed her lips against the three cuts on that arm, then lowered it and raised her right one, kissing the four on that arm. “There. I kissed them better. Yes, hun. I may not be as aggressive as you, but they attacked my girlfriend, even if you did kind of deserve it for kicking one, and I will always protect my love.”
Oh, how Suki’s face flushed and how her heart warmed. “That was sappy,” she said, wrapping her arms around Yue’s neck and peppering her clavicle with kisses. “But also kinda hot,” she whispered into her skin.
Yue shoved Suki off of her, nudging her shoulder. “Love you too,” she replied, tousling her girlfriend’s hair and pressing their foreheads together. “Just next time we go for a walk, let’s not get in a fight with a swarm of geese, okay?”
“Mmm.” Suki leaned in closer, their lips just barely touching. “I can’t promise that. Geese hate me.”
“Well, what did you expect them to do after you kicked one?” asked Yue, scooting her body closer to hers so they were flush against each other.
“I didn’t think geese had enough brain cells to realize I did that. Wasn’t prepared for them to swarm and attack me.” They were so close that she could count each and every freckle on her nose.
Another snort from Yue, and they were so close that Suki could feel the air she released. “Do you have enough brain cells to kiss me?”
“Mmm, I might. Do you have enough brain cells to kiss me back?” They were so close that their eyelashes were almost as intertwined as their bodies, and neither had realized that they had subconsciously wrapped around each other until now.
“I think I do.”
So, Suki closed the distance.