"Would you stop fidgeting?"
Mako flinched. "I'm not fidgeting."
"You are. Relax."
He scoffed. It was so much easier said than done. Sure she was the Avatar, master of all four elements, and the peacekeeper of the world. They stood side by side at the frontlines of death together, but if Mako hadn't known what a lie felt like, he would if he said he could give all his trust to Korra and the shears in her hands.
"Don't worry," Korra waved airly, smiling wide. "I've done this a million times."
Mako's eyes widened. "Y-you have?"
"Yeah! I always give Naga her haircuts."
[[MORE]]He sunk into his chair, face pulling together into a scowl. "Korra, I am not a polarbeardog."
"I know that," she murmured, fluffing his hair with her free hand.
She snipped the scissors, cutting into air. Mako swallowed thickly regretting this decision.
He could close his eyes and avoid the whole thing all together, but not seeing was feeling and feeling was a dangerous thing. They hadn't been this close in months. She sat on his knees, palms cupping his cheeks, angling his head awkwardly under the bathroom light. This close to her, he could see the thickness of her eyelashes, feel the hot fan of her breath.
This was a bad idea. A very, very bad idea.
"Oh yeah good idea," Korra chirped. "Keep your eyes closed. It'll be a surprise when you open them."
Just from her tone, he could tell she was smirking. He rolled his eyes under the lids.
"Can we just get this over with please?"
Korra laughed. "That's the spirit."
—
"So?"
Mako titled his head looking into the bathroom mirror. Turning back to her, he said, "It's not bad."
Korra snorted, rolling her eyes. "What does it take to impress you?"
He leaned back, hand spread over her thigh like the one she had over his heart. "Nothing," he replied playfully. "I'm never impressed."
Korra huffed. "Well." She leaned in close, pressing her forehead against his, fingers buried in his hair. "I guess we'll have to change that, won't we?"