Korra's forehead pushes hard against the cold rock, the line of a grimace painted across her lips. Her breath is hard, fluttering, a hint of tears visible in the icy glow of her eyes. There are snowflakes hanging in the air-though the sky above is clear-suspended in time; they flicker like coins in the dewy yellow light. In the distance a swathe of malevolent clouds threaten to take out the sun. All of it is an extension of her mind, of internal emotions boiling within; the spirit world is a looking glass for her soul.
Asami rides the wave with her, looking on with distant empathy. Korra's emotions are an extension of her own. Two days and neither of them have been able to speak. It is awkward, difficult. People won't accept it and neither of them have the guts to admit the truth.
The silence has lasted all morning, beginning with the walk to the top of Bald Mountain, home to many great beasts of the sky, and now filtering into the evening. Lighthearted attempts at speech have long since failed and faded. Though the hike is beautiful, there is a density in the air that suffocates their breath. Korra finally pauses, her face against the stone and whispers the ghost of Asami's name.
Glass-green eyes trace the strength of the avatar's form, their pupils teeming with unease. The warmth of the engineer's breath filters through drying lips before she voices her concern. "Korra." She pauses to place an arm on the avatar's shoulder, "let's sit down."
The bender does not move, though her muscles tense beneath the dark skin of her shoulder.
"I've never been good at this," Korra breaths into the rock, unwilling or unable to face her stalwart friend.
The crease between Asami's eyebrows deepens and she takes a steady breath, "you can tell me anything Korra, you know that."
"I don't know," she presses her forehead deeper into the stone and a strained sound passes through her throat, "I don't know about this."
"I think I can guess what's bothering you," Asami says lowly as her hand slides down to the Korra's elbow and she gently prompts the avatar to turn.
A shiver flickers down her arm-pinpricks of pleasure and light-but Korra resists the urge to cave to the engineer's insistence. The errant snowflakes quiver with the flow energy, though they remain fixed within the ether. Her eyes snap shut and she gives life to an ancient sigh. "I doubt it," she says.
Another pause; the snowflakes shudder again. "It's about being here." Korra adds "and what this time together means to me.".
"It means a lot to me too," Asami states expectantly, trying to gauge if her guess is correct. Neither of them have discussed their eagerness to be in the spirit world together, or what is occurring between them. The attraction is implied, but not obvious. They have come here as friends, but it feels like more, so much more.
The avatar's voice lowers, "well yeah," she says, almost imperceptibly, "but how much?" For Korra, the struggle feels one-sided. Asami is often impassive, her emotions are a labyrinth veiled behind staunch walls of ivy and stone, and it makes the confession difficult. The spirit world is more in tune with the avatar's emotions than it is the engineer's. It reflects Asami's patience by staving off the tempest, but remains neutral to the affection hidden deep within her being.
Asami does not wait any longer. Her touch slides down to grasp the avatar's hand, a butterfly landing on a flower, and she tugs at it. This time, Korra caves in to her insistence, rising and turning to face Asami in the dying light. Her eyes are as grey and misty as a meadow at dusk, and they project an aura of despondency.
There is a fragile moment between the flowing of their actions that catches them by surprise. Asami hovers like the snowflakes around them, dense and coiled with expectancy, while Korra is consumed with an electric silence that measures her heartbeats in stanzas.
All thoughts of inhibition fade as Asam's' lips rush to meet Korra's, as if caught within the avatar's gravity.
Korra's eyes widen in surprise, realization dawning, before they melt into something much more tender. Her response is ardent and all encompassing, an unfolding of everything within. The kiss lasts a lifetime before they break apart for lack of oxygen.
Her breath drifts in waves around Asami's neck and her grip around the engineer tightens. There are ribbons of tears sliding down her cheeks and she feels them drift onto her partner's skin. In the distance, the the dark storm begins to dissipate, ebbing and flowing like a waning tide. The spirits about them breathe a sigh of relief and return to their tranquil lives.
"You don't have to worry," Asami's voice echoes through the avatar's thrumming head, her thoughts clotted with ambrosia, "I get it."
Korra smiles and the crystals of snow, once frozen, float gently downward, twinkling like jewels in the sunshine. The space between them glows with celestial purity, a mirror of the avatar's mind.
Nothing could take away this velvet feeling and Korra vows, right then and there, to guard it with her life.
She puts Asami back as far as her fingertips, eyes deep and shining. "I didn't really know if you felt the same." Korra says with mild incredulity. "I'm so glad."
Before Asami can speak another word, a gust of wind pushes her gently forward, flowing freely through her raven hair as the avatar airbends them back together. Korra's expression is knowing and content, mischievous even, and the age of her soul shines through it.
Their foreheads meet and the world hums with age-old harmony. Korra's body feels languid and unhinged, floating on a maelstrom of affection.
The two companions stay that way for an infinite measure of time before Korra clears her throat.
"How are we going to tell the others?" her voice is calm and tender in a way that Asami has never heard before and the engineer's heart swells at the sound of it.
"This is new and a little strange for both of us." Asami's hand moves again, this time to cup the avatar's softened face "But we are what we are. We'll figure it out"
"Together?" The line of Korra's mouth slants upward and her hand presses lightly at the engineer's side.
"Together," Asami intones, almost shy in her return. Their lips meet again, this time prompted by the avatar's joy, and they linger together in the vast unknown. Twilight closes around them and they glow beneath a multitude of stars, the world around them forgotten in the wake of internal joy.