The Republic City military being stationed in the Southern water tribe land is bull, you think, despite the fact that they’re attempting to aid with certain levels of restoration and progress.

Okay, sure, it’s nice and all.

But the goddamn firebender that’s their self-appointed (well, okay, technically the President did that) general?

him.

the steaming hot nephew of the past General Iroh, military sensation Choi Minho.

The biggest problem with Minho is that he’s too good at his job. He’s statuesque and orderly, the ideal in terms of getting done and ordering people around. Which makes you dislike him even more, because his job involves making noise with his fancy ships at the port, which, in turn, makes your job as a waterbending instructor very difficult. Blaring horns aren’t great for your early morning concentration.

The other problem with Minho is that he’s perfect. And by perfect, you mean handsome, kind, soft-hearted, loyal, dutiful, smooth, happy, persistent, and very much interested in you. That’s actually what makes you the angriest.

Sometimes you feel like you should have been born a firebender, because you have the temperament of one.

“Minho!”

You see his head snap up where he’s crouched over a box of something; you see him where you are when you’re storming out of your training facility. He stands up straight and waves, and your resolve almost falters when he smiles. He has the loveliest smile, makes your heart feel like it’s hypotonic. “Good morning, _____.”

When you reach him, you cross your arms and all the people around go silent and still, just kind of watch as you literally seethe. “Y-yes, well. Good morning to you, too. But it’s also not that great.”

He raises a brow. “Oh?”

“What time is it, Minho?”

Realization strikes his face and he immediately knows he’s ed up. Good. “Five in the morning.”

You nod. “And, at what time did I request that you give me peace?”

“Dawn.”

“What do you see outside right now?”

He deflates. “Dawn. I’m so sorry. We really had to prep this ship, though; we need to send the proper convoy back to Republic City. The Avatar is coming soon, you know—“

All the more reason to have concentration at dawn. You need to be on your top game for all the work you’re going to be doing when she arrives. “I know. But it’s pointless, now. I swear to all the spirits in the whole ing world, though, if you mess up dusk, I’m going to hit you.”

“He’d like that,” you hear from someone in passing, and life begins to continue on around you.

Minho’s face flushes and he reaches up to rub the back of his head. His lips are pulled back in a way that signals his discomfort, and you can’t help but suddenly feel terrible for going off on him because he’s literally human sunshine. “Sorry.”

Okay, yeah, you’re the tiest. “Don’t be,” you retract all the power you just laid on the table, and your pulse gives a slight lurch to let you know that you’re as interested as he is. “I just get worked up about these things. But it’s important for me to be able to do all of this stuff to keep the spirits in balance and stuff.”

“I get it,” he nods. “Which is why I’m genuinely sorry.”

“Okay…” you bite on your lip and kind of lean to the side, begin a slight pivot back because you’re not exactly sure where to go from here.

His lips shift back into a small smile. “Okay…”

You start a slow nod, keep your eyes trained hesitantly on him. “Well, I’ll see you later?”

“You look pretty today,” he blurts as you turn, and you can be sure it’s still accompanied by that doe-eyed visage. “You always look pretty.”

him. Now you have to turn back around and embarrass yourself.

“You do too. I mean. Handsome. Okay yeah. Spirits.”

He’s beaming. You’re fluttering. “Spirits.”

Bull.