Azula never imagined that her own limits could crumble so easily. Before, days or even weeks could go by without Zuko crossing her thoughts, but since his recent gender presentation, an unknown and pressing need for contact grew in her chest. It wasn’t just a simple physical longing for him, but a need for attention that slowly consumed her. The toxic urgency for contact increased with each passing day. Azula wanted to see him, she missed the satisfaction of annoying him, of humiliating him, of reminding him that his existence was a game of power and convenience under their father’s shadow. Who would ever want to love him? Why would anyone? He was nobody, and he never would be.
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