[ Of course he'll put on tea... Zuko doesn't want any tea, but he knows better than to tell Iroh so. He'll make it anyway. It doesn't matter.
The boy shows up within what feels like moments — had he already been on his way? Surely. He knocks at the door with loud, dense pounds of his fist. He's scowling when Iroh answers the door, deeper than usual, doesn't even try to smile or say hi. And... he has a black duffle bag full of stuff with him on one shoulder, and Zunyan perched on the other shoulder, wrapped around Zuko's neck in part. Zuko has the hood of his black sweatshirt up, and looks thoroughly disgruntled, far more so than Iroh had seen him in a long time, and disheveled, too. In fact, his hair is messy beneath the hood, his jeans are covered in dirt for some reason, and his good eye looks mildly puffy; and upon a closer look, for someone who knows the boy's face as well as Iroh does, the faint freckles of burst capillaries beneath the thin skin of his right undereye, his brow still knotted so deeply in frustration it almost hurt — the face of someone who's been crying and screaming furiously. And the look of someone who's clearly expecting an impromptu sleepover. ]
action;
The boy shows up within what feels like moments — had he already been on his way? Surely. He knocks at the door with loud, dense pounds of his fist. He's scowling when Iroh answers the door, deeper than usual, doesn't even try to smile or say hi. And... he has a black duffle bag full of stuff with him on one shoulder, and Zunyan perched on the other shoulder, wrapped around Zuko's neck in part. Zuko has the hood of his black sweatshirt up, and looks thoroughly disgruntled, far more so than Iroh had seen him in a long time, and disheveled, too. In fact, his hair is messy beneath the hood, his jeans are covered in dirt for some reason, and his good eye looks mildly puffy; and upon a closer look, for someone who knows the boy's face as well as Iroh does, the faint freckles of burst capillaries beneath the thin skin of his right undereye, his brow still knotted so deeply in frustration it almost hurt — the face of someone who's been crying and screaming furiously. And the look of someone who's clearly expecting an impromptu sleepover. ]