Title: Masquerade
Summary: [written for day one of Makorra Week | angst | Makorra]
Words: 1,076

Everyday, she woke, eyes fluttering open to stare at the ceiling above, and ears listening close to the sounds of morning that surrounded her.

Everyday, she showered and dress after reluctantly leaving her bed, taking more time than necessary to stare at her reflection in the mirror.

Everyday, she ate breakfast with Tenzin, Pema, and the children, avoiding conversation that didn't specifically involve her, wearing a forced smile and always answering with an "I'm great," when asked how she was feeling.

Everyday, she would assist Pema in cleaning up the table and dishes, remaining quiet and avoiding eye contact, knowing all too well that Pema knew exactly what was on her mind. The older women, however, never pried where she didn't belong — it wasn't her place, and Korra knew that Pema wouldn't speak a word unless Korra confided in her.

Everyday, she trained with Tenzin and the children, learning new airbending techniques and testing them in mock-fights with the bending portion of the family. Training always allowed her to keep a clear mind, as did the meditation that usually preceded or followed.

Everyday, she would eat dinner with the family, avoiding unnecessary conversation, assist in cleaning up, shower, and retire to her room, readying herself for the following day.

Everyday, this routine repeated, with exceptions made only for Asami and Bolin who often invited the Avatar out to eat or hang out.

Everyday, she avoided anything that had to do with a certain ex-boyfriend — a certain, tall, handsome, firebender boy that was once a great part of her life — for any mention or reminder of him triggered her to feel as though she was simply floating along in this life of hers. She couldn't quite figure out the correct way to describe the feeling, but she knew that it was certainly caused by grief over a love lost, and no matter how much she attempted to mask the thoughts of the boy and the feelings that accompanied them, she could not shake them.

She knew better than to drop her façade around those who cared deeply for and often worried about the young Avatar, and yet, nothing could have prepared her for the chance encounter in the middle of Republic City Park — a place she went often to clear her head when given the chance.

He was walking tall down the path she had been on, gloved hands shoved carelessly in the pockets of his long overcoat, eyes downcast and brow furrowed. She wondered if he had spotted her — and, of course, he did. How could he have not? He was walking toward her, after all, but on the slim chance he had yet to notice her, she contemplated veering off of the path and into a crowd, blending in and keeping her presence to him unknown.

Something kept her from doing that, however, and the two soon came face-to-face. Involuntarily, she cleared her throat, and he glanced up at her, breaking out in a smile before realizing it wasn't appropriate. He'd stopped before her, and it was then that she got a good look at him.

Dark circles surrounded his eyes, stubble began to form upon his face, and his lips formed a slight frown. He looked like a train wreck, and yet, she noticed the way he seemed to smile with his eyes at the sight of her. It brought back a familiar feeling in the pit of her stomach, one that she began to ignore out of habit.

"Hey," was the only word he offered her after a long moment of unbearable silence.

"Nice day for a walk, isn't it?" were the next words to get passed his lips when silence fell over them once more.

Her eyes had shifted away from the young man before her sometime during their encounter, and she could only shrug in return, not trusting herself fully to speak to the person who still held her heart after months and months of attempting to move on.

"Look," he began after sitting through another moment of silence, "I can't go on pretending like you don't exist. It's killing me, Korra! This is the first time we've — I've spoken to you in so long, and you haven't even said one word to me. Why do we have to act like this?"

"Acting like what, Mako?" she finally offered through gritted teeth. "You don't understand how difficult it is for me to be around you! You aren't the only one going through this, you know. I have to go through everyday acting like nothing is wrong because I'm the Avatar! I'm pretty much the face of benders throughout the world, and I'm sure they'd rather not see me depressed over a breakup."

"You're human, Korra. What do they expect?"

"It isn't just that!" her voice quavered and cracked, and she finally looked toward him as she spoke. "I meant what I said when I told you that we just don't work together, Mako. You have no idea how many times I need to repeat that to myself everyday when I wish I could just be with you again!"

"Then let's try again," he whispered, taking her hands between his own. "We may not work together, but we sure as hell don't work well without each other."

That feeling — the warmth of his hands enveloping hers, the static that coursed through her entire being each time he touched her, the butterflies that floated within her stomach — that specific feeling she missed dearly was cut short when she quickly pulled away from his loving touch. She didn't dare meet his eyes, knowing all too well that she would be met with agony which mirrored her own.

"No, Mako," she whispered, blinking back the tears that had began to pool. "I'm standing by what I said."

"Then at least stop acting like you don't know me!"

"I can't do that! I can't be in the same room as you because I love you so much!" she turned her back toward him and weakly yanked her hand away from his lingering touch. "This is it, Mako — this is goodbye."

And as she walked away from him, not daring to look back, he could feel something rip apart from him — almost as though it had been ripped away from his heart.

He fell to his knees and buried his face in his hands toward the ground, remaining there until a worried Bolin came and found him.