Title: Something Familiar, Something Painful, Brother
Word Count:
558
Summary:
[Mako catches Bolin writing something down. It seems very familiar. Old wounds are opened. | Mako. Bolin.]

be-the-peaf · Prompt 021 – rivals

-.-

They say that writing problems out is a good way to look past them. But Mako's never been one for spelling things out or looking back on the past. He knows what he has to do when he's confronted, knows how to work in his mind and solve it then and there. The past is something he tries not to think about too often, but it's there, he knows that, and it shapes him to this very day.

Which is why he's more or less surprised to walk through the Air Temple's many rooms and find Bolin huddled over a desk in the study room, scribbling over a piece of paper. Mako is curious and approaches. Bolin doesn't notice; he's concentrated on his work. When he gets right behind his back he leans over, trying to see what he's writing down. Bolin has a few lines down that are covered by his thick arms, but Mako can just make out a phrase.

They were rivals. Rivals of looove.

Mako is taken aback and stares in bewilderment at his brother.

"What are you writing?" he asks, crossing his arms. Bolin yelps, jumping out of his skin and quickly covering the paper with his body.

"Nothing!" Bolin says, looking over his shoulder. Mako goes to the table, fingering at the paper.

"You were definitely writing something. Now what is it?"

"It's none of your business – Hey! Give that back!"

But it was too late; Mako had already gotten the paper from out of Bolin and held it at a distance, skimming over the scratchy handwriting.

"'He was having the time of his life; having dinner with her. But little did he know that something evil was coming. A stab to the heart. It was after the semi-final match and he approached where she was standing by the pier, flowers in hand. But he saw another figure there. It was his brot-'"

He stops, recognizing the chain of events and he turns sharply, staring at Bolin, who looks embarrassed, twiddling his thumbs on the table. Mako puts the paper on the table, taking a seat across from him.

"Bolin…" he trails off, trying to figure where this has come from. "Why are you writing about this?"

"Because," Bolin says, sliding the paper over to his side, protecting it from the world. "It still hurts."

Mako takes a sharp breath and exhales slowly, leaning in. His fingers squeeze and his knuckles turn white. He doesn't know how to deal with this. Anything like this.

"That was a long time ago, Bolin." He stares forward but doesn't focus on anything. It's all a blur.

"I know." Bolin sighs, rolling the pencil into his hand. His head is hung low. Eyes downcast to the floor; the paper crinkled in his hand. "I heard that writing about things that were bothering you helps to lift the weight. I just wanted to try it out. See if it would help."

"I'm sorry, Bolin." Mako rubs a hand over his face and stands, walking out of the room. He pauses at the doorframe, holding onto the wood. "You should keep writing. Then, if you want to; come and talk with me."

Bolin stares and nods once, slowly at his brother's back. Mako leaves and pulls his scarf to his face.

I didn't want this to happen, Bolin.

:Fin:

What the hell this was supposed to be funny and silly but it JUST TURNED OUT SO DEPRESSING WHY ;_;