Stretching

Mako slammed the attic's trap door shut; he had to vent his frustration somehow. Bolin was still in the washroom, a whole twenty minutes since he had gone in. Apparently the fact that pro-bending practice was supposed to start now was unimportant to him.

He'd rather be primping for the girlfriend he doesn't have, he thought, climbing down the ladder to the gym. It wasn't that Korra was so bad; it was the inconvenient effect she had on his brother. He was grateful to her for stepping up to the plate when they needed her. He was grateful that she was now forgoing part of her training to lend them her respectable waterbending abilities. What he wasn't grateful for was the excess time Bolin now took to prepare for practice, even when he had never been so eager to impress Hasook. Mako had been averse to having a girl on board before, and this was reminding him of why. They needed to have their heads in the game more than ever, and if Korra kept having this effect on Bolin, she'd be doing more harm than good.

He hopped off the last rung of the ladder, tucking his pro-bending helmet under one arm. The gym was still dim this early in the morning, cloaking the equipment in shadows. Only a few rays of sunlight trickled in through the shutters.

It was because of the dimness that Mako did not immediately notice his company. She didn't even look human at first, sitting the way she was. Her torso was bent to the left, one banded arm reaching over her head. Even in that position, however, the Avatar was unmistakable; her hair hung off her head in three small ponytails, and her form-fitting blue shirt stood out even in the poor lighting. He had to focus a few more seconds to realize what he was seeing; she sat with her legs spread in a split, back to him, and stretching toward her left boot. He suddenly felt at a loss for what he should do – he was always in the gym before anyone came in, too busy to make a proper greeting. What was he supposed to say?

It seemed that she hadn't noticed him yet, so he had plenty of time to stare. He'd never realized just how flexible she was, able to almost lay her torso along the length of her leg. It made sense – she was one of the fittest benders he'd ever encountered – and it wasn't really why he was staring. Korra's position drew her shirt taut against her skin, showing every curve and groove on her body in detail. He couldn't see her front – thank goodness for that – but as his eyes adjusted to the light, he saw more and more. He could count her ribs, see the perfect arch of her back, and view every muscle as it flexed in conjunction with her movement. He'd judged her as pretty as soon as he saw her, but it had never occurred to him how... sexy she was.

Korra sat up, raising her arms above her head and arching her back. He could see the toning increase there as well; her skin was nothing but a thin veil to the lean musculature beneath. It was almost as if she were showcasing herself, and it made his mind go places he didn't want it to.

Then she sighed, and Mako realized that the spectacle had ended. She laced her fingers behind her head and fell back against the gym floor, finally bringing him into her view.

"Korra!" he said suddenly, as if he had just seen her.

"Oh!" she replied simultaneously, standing as if the floor had pinched her. There was an awkward pause. "Hey, Mako..." She tacked something between a grin and a smile onto her face. "I, uh, I didn't see you there."

"That's because I just got down," he said, toying with his helmet. "Why are you here so early? You're never here this early."

The smile-grin faded. "I just got out here to warm up. Nice to see you too."

"Yeah," he said dismissively, walking across the room to put his helmet onto a table.

Korra frowned at him. "You alright? You seem... grumpier than usual."

Mako clenched his jaw before answering. "Fine. Are you going to practice in that? I want to get started as soon as Bolin drags himself down here."

Korra crossed her arms. "Fine, I'll get changed, o mighty leader. Sorry I asked."

He heard her collect her gear and head to the changing room. That was enough of a cue for him to grab his helmet and begin the trek to the wet bags. The training tools were leather sacks filled with water, and were always damp enough to firebend at without a chance of burns. They were designed for pro-benders specifically, and made up the core of his warm-up routine.

"Mako?"

He paused. What does she want now?

"Yeah?" he asked, turning halfway back to her. "What is it?"

"Can I ask you a personal question?"

He shrugged. "Preferably not, but I bet you'll ask anyway. Shoot."

She frowned at him, like she so often did, but he turned out to be right.

"Have you ever liked anyone?"

"Sure, some people," he said with a shrug, though he had a nagging feeling that he wasn't answering her question. "Come on, I'm not that serious. I just try to stay focused."

"No, I mean..." Korra momentarily averted her gaze. "You know, liked somebody."

Mako's brain was suddenly a frenzy of activity. He called up fresh memories of her contortions without wanting to, incorporating them into her sudden change in subject and body language. He was flitting to vague possibilities in a heartbeat. What did she mean? Could it be what he thought it was? He suddenly felt like he was being tested, in fact, was almost certain that he was being tested.

But he wasn't going to be playing this game. The only game he had time for was pro-bending, and the fact that she was a teammate made the whole idea ten times worse.

"Sure, I guess, from time to time. I was a kid once, too. Nobody recently, though, if that's what you're... you know what, why are you even wondering?"

She was back to her old, defensive self in an instant. "What? I said it was a personal question. I just saw you talking to a fan girl last night after practice, and I-"

"Her? She was looking for my autograph, and I told her to go away!"

"Well fine," she replied, crossing her arms.

"Alright."

Mako looked away as she snatched up her gear and tromped toward the changing room. Soon he was back to being alone in the gym. He glanced down at his helmet, toying with the leather absentmindedly in the silence. He scowled as he thought back to Bolin and his "silly" crush.

You can't help it, he thought, but you can help what you do about it. Just focus.

He knew that he was rationalizing, but that was something he had often resorted to over the years. It worked; and with his brother to care for, he was not about to pass on anything that worked.

Pushing the Avatar out of his mind, Mako donned the helmet and began bathing the wet bags with fire. He could worry about Korra later; he had a championship tournament to win.