"No." And then, without giving it enough of a pause so that the two thoughts ran together into one awkward melange– "I'm Zuko."
His shoulders tightened as he frowned apologetically at her before hastily trying to salvage what he could of his dignity. "I mean. No, I don't know who you are." He puffed out an exasperated breath and pressed on. "You're new."
Zuko was aware that he was still on Macaluso's side of the palace. If he dared turn his head to look he'd see the window he crawled out of not that far down the side of the wall. Embarrassingly close. What kind of an idiot falls off a room he's run down at least fifty times since getting stuck here?
Oblivious to the way he'd gone silent while staring at her, Zuko came back to the present with a start. "Why do you have paint on your hands?" Had he waited too long to ask that?
no subject
His shoulders tightened as he frowned apologetically at her before hastily trying to salvage what he could of his dignity. "I mean. No, I don't know who you are." He puffed out an exasperated breath and pressed on. "You're new."
Zuko was aware that he was still on Macaluso's side of the palace. If he dared turn his head to look he'd see the window he crawled out of not that far down the side of the wall. Embarrassingly close. What kind of an idiot falls off a room he's run down at least fifty times since getting stuck here?
Oblivious to the way he'd gone silent while staring at her, Zuko came back to the present with a start. "Why do you have paint on your hands?" Had he waited too long to ask that?