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She is not surprised that his side of the bed is empty when she runs her hand over the sheets lethargically. The sheets are cold, meaning he has probably already been up for a while, and all Katara can do is groan when she prises an eye open to blearily look at the pale light peeking beneath the curtains.
Sometimes she hates her stupid waking-with-the-sun Avatar boyfriend.
The sheets are already a tangled pile at the bottom of the mattress when Katara finally manages to summon the strength to sit up. Aang ran hotter than any furnace and it was rare for either of them to still be wrapped in the sheets for any length of the night, especially during the sticky summer in Ba Sing Se. She scrubs her hands over her face, trying to wake herself up as she kicks away the stray corner of material still wrapped around her ankle. Some sort of bird chirps outside the window and she scowls.
She smooths down her short black nightdress as she finally pulls herself from bed, trying not to glare at the sunny yellow robe draped over the ottoman, waiting for her.
Yellow, she thinks, is such a happy and sunny colour. Too happy and sunny for this time in the morning. Katara picks it up anyway, slipping her arms through the soft silk of the sleeves as she knows it’ll be chilly in the fresh morning air. The tile is certainly cool beneath her feet, not yet baked in the late morning sun that is sure to come.
The door squeaks quietly in the runner as she slides it open, blinking against the brighter light coming in from the open archway at the end of the corridor. She knows the sound won’t wake up anyone else in the house, but is slower in her movements as she closes the door behind her. Turning back to the archway, she sees Aang and smiles.
The long line of his back is straight as he perches on the wall of the balcony in his meditation pose, the smooth lines of his tattoo marred by the knot of scar tissue in the middle. She always marvels at it being one of the few blemishes on his body - her own is littered with freckles and small scars, but his is plain after plain of smooth, creamy skin for the most part.
Katara reaches back and braids her bedraggled hair as she moves towards him, admiring the view even if she is still cursing the early hour. The breeze from the archway pulls at the silk of the yellow robe and the caress of the fabric about her thighs reminds her of Aang’s fingertips tracing her skin. She isn’t trying to be silent as she moves towards him, and he remains completely still, but she is sure he knows she is coming.
Despite the cool morning air, the skin of his back is hot to her touch as her fingers trail from the nape of his neck to the small of his back. His posture relaxes as her arm wraps around his lean waist, a deep exhale rising from his stomach as he blinks his grey eyes open slowly to look at her. He rolls his shoulders and she can feel the tension leave his muscles.
Their eyes meet as he dips his head and he smiles at her slowly. His hand rubs up her back, calluses catching on the silk robe and then on the loose strands of her braid as his fingers bury into her hair.
“Good morning,” Aang murmurs before pressing his lips to her temple. Katara turns into his body heat, her face nuzzling into the curve of his neck.
“Is it?” Katara answers, closing her eyes and breathing him in.
“It’s always a good morning when you’re around,” Aang replies. Katara shakes her head and scoffs. Her fingernails scratch at his exposed skin, dipping beneath the waistband of his shorts. The tug on her hair is gentle and she breathes out a sigh through her nose.
They remain still for a few moments more, Katara soaking in the heat of his body. She pulls away from Aang’s neck and smiles as she tips her head up to meet his eyes again. “Tea?”
“Please,” Aang says. Katara rises to her toes and presses a kiss against his lips. His hand slips from her hair to her shoulder, down her arm in a warm caress and grips her small hand for a moment as she pulls away. “I’ll only be a few more minutes.”