A/N: These are for the 30 day challenge, because I needed to spew my Makorra feelings somehow after that finale (which was dal;shkgfl;ksahgds;ilfh AMAZING), and I'm sorely uninspired right now so I figured I'd just use prompt words instead. Unfortunately, I only have the first five prompt words, so if someone could give me a link to the rest, that'd be greatly appreciated. :)

Hope you enjoy!

1. beginning

Korra sprawls on the red couch pushed against the window in the attic of the Probending Arena, which has been resurrected bigger and brighter than ever. She can't fathom why Mako and Bolin moved back in, though as she looks over the back of the couch, out the window, she admits the view is as breathtaking as Mako says it is. She supposes that the fact they don't have to pay rent anymore also has something to do with it, but figures that Bolin's statement comes closest to the truth: "Home is home. And it was our home for so long, so…"

Mako sits on the right side of the couch, Korra's legs in his lap. He has the newspaper open and reads it quietly while Korra bounces a ball against the hardwood floor, her right arm dangling off the couch as she orchestrates its movements. Thump. Thump. Thump. Mako hides it well, but Korra sees him clench his jaw slightly as he flips a page and smiles to herself. Sure, they've said their I love you's and everything, but at the end of the day she still likes pushing his buttons. And she still knows exactly how to push them.

"Korra, do you mind?" Mako asks, arching an eyebrow as he peers over the paper at her.

"Nope, I don't," Korra replies innocently. Thump. Thump. The ball continues its relentless bouncing.

Mako rolls his eyes and turns back to whatever article he's reading, but for a second Korra spots a gleam in his eye that she doesn't like.

Before she knows it, the newspaper is cast aside and she finds her rubber ball in Mako's hands.

"Hey!" Korra protests, sitting upright. "Give that back!"

Mako rolls it between his fingers. "Only if you promise not to bounce it anymore," he requests.

Korra folds her arms. "No."

"Then," Mako says, tossing it from hand to hand, "I'll just keep it."

Korra follows the movement before she lunges.

Mako's eyes widen in surprise as he is pushed backwards onto the couch, Korra's body leaning over him as she tries to grab the ball.

"What are you doing?" he asks, incredulous, stretching his arm higher, out of Korra's reach.

"Getting the ball back. What does it seem like I'm doing?" Korra asks—mischievous (and maybe a little suggestive), for a minute, as she pulls back and looks Mako in the eyes. She knows she's acting kind of childish—they both are, but it's nice that they can act like this, without it being some sort of forbidden thing. "Argh, your arms are too long," she complains.

Mako laughs and pushes her back with one hand, his other arm still outstretched over his head. "Korra," he exhales, all breathy and exasperated but also amused, and the way he says her name makes her tingle all over.

"Mako," she parrots back, scrambling over him and still trying to make a grab for her stolen toy. Mako wraps an arm around her waist to pull her back down, and she laughs and writhes in his grip, swatting at his arm while Mako ducks her blows as much as he can, what with his compromising position.

It somehow deteriorates into a wrestling match and then a tickle fight, the ball rolled under the couch somewhere and Korra beneath Mako, laughing until her sides hurt and screeching "Get off of me!" as Mako exacts his revenge. He's laughing, too, and Korra can feel it in her chest, warm and bubbly and hers. He loves her, she loves him, they're Mako and Korra but also MakoandKorra. And it feels right.

"Ooohkay, didn't know I'd be walking in on something," comes a voice, and Korra stops laughing long enough to turn her head. Bolin stands watching them, a box full of belongings in his hands (he and Mako haven't completely finished moving back in yet).

Mako eases off of Korra, his cheeks slightly pink (but probably nowhere near as flushed as hers, Korra thinks) as he scolds, "Get your mind out of the gutter, Bo."

Bolin sets the box down and raises his hand in surrender. "Oh, no no no, I wasn't thinking anything like that. I mean, it looked like—well, nope, totally clean thoughts. Me? Mind in the gutter? Nah." He waves his hand airily in dismissal. "I'm just gonna…go back out and leave you two alone. Together. In peace." Bolin backs away slowly before heading down the stairs. As his head disappears, Korra can hear his voice wafting up to them: "But be careful, okay? Use, like, protection or something—"

"Bolin!" Mako scowls.

"Okay! I'm going! Leaving you alone! In peace!"

Korra waits until Bolin is out of earshot before bursting into laughter. Mako, to his credit, keeps his scowl for a few moments longer before he chuckles, too. He throws one arm over the back of the couch and leans back, the sunlight basking his face in gold.

Korra swings her legs back into his lap and folds her arms beneath her head as she regards the room. Light streams in through the windows, and most of the crates have been unpacked. There's a little stove in the corner, where Mako cooks, presumably, and the new hardwood floors gleam with a polished shine.

"It's looking good," she says.

Mako nods, smiles. "It's a start."