Title: Warmth.
Rating: K+
Word Count: 1,208 words.
Notes: From Korra's perspective, this time. A quick drabble about how Korra slowly learns how to feel. This might be the last fic/drabble that I can squeeze before Book 4 - - IT'S SO CLOSE, MY LOVELIES! Can you feel it?
The clothes that Korra has stolen fit her very awkwardly, she thinks, but this is the style of the Earth Kingdom. She tries not to fidget with the strange neckline as she waits at the station. Her dark skin has allowed her to blend in rather effortlessly and as long as she keeps her eyes down, they'll never know who she is.
Out of the corner of her vision, she sees a flash of red in a sea of green—automatically, her breath gets caught in her throat as she anxiously follows the trail of crimson…it turns out to be a scarf, yes…but a little, old woman has it wrapped around her shoulders as she glides through the crowd.
Korra can't help but feel disappointed. She feels a chill creep up her arms until it uncomfortably tickles her neck.
Korra finds that she can't sleep much, lately. The humidity in the jungle is ridiculous but she finds that she shivers at night. She promises herself that she'd never do it, but she finds herself thinking of home.
It starts with missing the luxurious feeling of stretching out on a bed of furs, with Naga's warm breath on her legs. Her thoughts move on to the absence of ship horns and seagulls calling—Yue Bay's daily alarm clock. Then as usual, she aches for warmth. Korra wants nothing more than to feel strong arms around her waist, to be pulled into the loving embrace and to feel the warmth of someone who's full of life.
She aches so much, she feels like her ribcage will crack.
Her opponent feints left twice before slamming a chunk of hard soil into her face. It knocks the air out of her body, sending her sprawling backwards with a small cry. The smirk on his angular face is evident—he thinks he's already got this one in the bag.
Korra grits her teeth. Giving up isn't an option, it never was. She assumes a stance that's been burned into her mind—two fingers pointed towards the sky. With calm, deliberate motions, she dodges flying clods of dirt, channels her energy, and directs heated pillars of earth at him. They burst from the ground unpredictably and hit him square in the chest.
She's panting now, ignoring the static electricity that's buzzing from the ground.
Korra is waiting in line. Earth Kingdom noodle dishes are served warm but in a dipping style—it's delicious but it also takes twice as long to eat. She waits patiently, reading the posters that are plastered on the shop's exterior.
When Korra is next to go in, she turns to read the last poster that's been taped onto the glass door—it's actually not a poster, it's a newspaper clipping about Prince Wu's latest exploits in the city. Republic City. The article includes a shot of said Prince, who looks awfully full of himself, she thinks, giving a boring speech at City Hall. To his left, Korra sees Beifong—she looks tired, but still an unyielding pillar of strength. Next to Beifong….stands a young officer. He stands just as tall, his arms clasped behind his back as he waits patiently. His uniform is crisp and his mouth is pulled into a tight line. As always, his ridiculous eyebrows are furrowed as he surveys the crowd.
Korra feels the ache in her chest, again. She doesn't even notice when the patrons behind her cut in front of her and the steam of boiling water wafts out the door.
She steals the clipping, folding it up into a tight square before she tucks it into her pocket.
He is such a nice guy that when he leans in for a kiss, she lets him, even though she has no intention of letting this go any further. Korra notices that his eyes are a pleasant shade of green, before she closes her own.
Also, she wants to know what it feels like to kiss someone else.
They break, she smiles gently, and excuses herself for the night. As she escapes back to her rented room, she remarks that the kiss had been…just that—pleasant. And that was it. It had been way too clean, too short, too…empty. She misses the feelings of heat rushing to her cheeks, warm hands cradling her face before they explore other parts of her body. She misses his golden eyes and she misses feeling alive.
The mandarin collar feels almost alien on her skin. She pulls on leather boots that envelop her feet and it feels so bulky compared to the slippers that were part her Earth Kingdom wardrobe. The arm band around her bicep is too loose.
But it feels…so…good…to be Korra again. She expels her breath slowly, reveling in the feeling of…feeling like herself. It feels good to not have to pretend, to not have to ignore, to not have to hide. For once, she feels the tingle of heat from the sunlight.
It feels so good to feel.
Her homecoming back to Republic City is very uneventful. In fact, she only tells Tenzin and she makes it clear that there will be no fanfare. 3 years is an awfully long time to have been away. He says nothing other than, "Of course, Korra, Welcome home." Korra smiles—she can feel the warmth of his tone through the phone.
It must be the hair—she isn't stopped once as she follows the directions that Pema has written down. The sun is setting—everyone is too preoccupied with their afternoon commute to notice her.
Climbing the steps of the apartment building, she pauses to make sure that she's on the right floor until jingling of keys makes her look up.
He's standing at a door at the end of the hallway. He's holding a bag of groceries and his jacket is bunched under his arm. His briefcase is slung across his back and his shirt is slightly untucked. He's focused on fitting the sticky key into the lock, balancing the groceries on his hip as he scowls.
Korra says nothing as she watches. Her hands find themselves to her heart as she feels the unmistakable, magnificent tingle of heat. She feels it in the flush of cheeks, in her knees and her fingers and toes. She finally feels a spark and it fills her with so much joy that she's afraid she'll burst.
Subconsciously aware that he's being watched, his golden eyes sweep upwards until they lock with hers—there's a thud and oranges are rolling on the floor.
"…Korra?" Mako's voice is a mix of disbelief, amazement, but the prominent tone is clearly, 'hope.'
She smiles. It feels so good to feel alive. "I'm home."