“It’s been 6 hours,” Mako whines. “My feet are killing me.”
“Suck it up,” Katara snaps. “This needs to be perfect.”
Mako groans and Zuko chuckles.
“This isn’t that bad, compared to my and Sokka’s wedding,” Zuko comforts. “Katara was young and fast and terrifying. We spent three days choosing my dress.”
Mako stares at the other omega, horrified.
“That sounds terrible,” the omega stresses.
Zuko smiles. “It was, but I ended up looking wonderful in the wedding pictures.”
“How are you and Sokka?” Mako asks.
“Fine. Izumi is doing wonderful as Fire Lord,” Zuko praises.
“She’s very smart,” Mako agrees.
“So are you,” Zuko counters.
Mako shakes his head. “I’m no Fire Nation royalty.”
“Ingenuity comes from passion, not hierarchy,” Zuko says.
Mako looks at him in surprise at the wise words.
“I was raised by Iroh, I would hope that I know some proverbs by now,” Zuko says wryly.
Mako laughs. “I never met Iroh. He seems wonderful.”
Zuko’s eyes glaze over in a nostalgic way. “He was. He was also the only reason other than Katara threatening my life that I wore the dress.”
Mako deflates as he remembers the reason they’re in the store right now.
The omega pouts. “I don’t wanna wear a dress.”
“WHAT DID YOU SAY?” Katara’s screeches.
Mako looks at Zuko in alarm.
The omega looks Mako dead in the eye.
He looked solemn.
“Run. Run like your life depends on it because it probably does.”