The first night he spends at her house, he is nervous.
That is, he isn't expecting anything, but he is nervous nonetheless because he has never experienced such grandeur before. Sure, when his parents were alive, they lived comfortably, but they might as well have been living in the streets compared to the Sato mansion.
"You're welcome to go anywhere you like," Asami said graciously when she brought him and Bolin to her home. "Except the west wing," she said quickly, as though just remembering. She gave a sheepish smile and explained, "It's my father's workspace. He can't have a single office; he needs an entire side of the house to develop his ideas. Future Industries isn't as successful as it is without big ideas," she said, flicking Mako's nose when he stared at her wide-eyed.
That wasn't what had him surprised though. Wings—their house has wings, like some gargantuan beast that can take off for the heavens at any moment.
Thinking about it, he still can't wrap his mind around how he has made it here. He had been living on the streets for the greater part of the past ten years after his parents were killed and then in the attic of the pro-bending arena. Now he is in a mansion while the pro-bending arena is being fixed up after Amon's attack.
He's still unsettled by the fact that Amon had gotten so close to him yet again. He's not as upset as Bolin—Bolin, who gets up in the middle of the night when he thinks Mako is asleep and talks to Pabu about his nightmares. But Mako would be lying if he said he wasn't scared either.
The Sato mansion has a clear view of the pro-bending arena. Since the attack, though, the officials have disabled the golden lights that made it light up like the city's very own trophy. On the Republic City skyline, it is nothing but a drab blob of darkness, just like the rest of the horizon at nighttime.
"Enjoying the view?"
Asami's voice shocks him out of his reverie as he spins around to face her. She wears a long pink nightgown that brushes her toes and trails behind her as she moves toward him. Her hair is swept over her shoulder in a wave of deep ebony. Never does a single strand ever seem to be out of place. And he likes that about her, likes that she can remain so composed no matter what happens. He likes that she gives off an air of perfect all the time, every time.
"Yeah," he says, inviting her to the window. There is plenty of space for them both, but she squeezes up beside him, their shoulders brushing. He can feel the heat of her skin through the fabric of her nightgown.
"This used to be my favorite place to watch the city lights," she says, her voice a soft hum. "Before I was allowed to go to pro-bending matches, I would sit here and watch the arena with the radio blaring."
She smiles as she leans against the window, her hand smoothing through a lock of her hair. Mako can see from the moonbeams there is a smudge of lipstick just beneath her bottom lip. She closes her eyes before he can reach for it and wipe it off.
"My mom took me to my first match," she says, straightening. She takes a deep breath of the wind that blows through at that moment and exhales before opening her eyes again. Her smile has faltered, sad and nostalgic. "It was one of the last chances I got to be with her before—"
She doesn't have to say it for him to understand. He wraps an arm around her shoulders, and she leans into his chest, her hair brushing up against his jaw.
"I'm glad I have you, Mako," she says, her hand tightening around his shirt. "You make me feel less alone."
He could say the same.
"Anyway," she says, looking up at him. She gives him a devilish grin, leans up to kiss his cheek, and unravels herself from him. "It's getting late. I'll see you in the morning. Good night," she says, slipping into a room just a few doors down from his. "And if you have trouble getting to sleep," she adds, her head poking out of her half-closed door. He thinks he can see the flash of her teeth grinning at him through the darkness. "You know where to find me."
.
As it happens, he does have trouble getting to sleep. Somehow, without Bolin's snores (they have their own rooms here), Mako feels the night is too loud for him. There is too much room for him to fill on his own. But he soldiers through it, wakes up without his usual aching back.
There is some discrepancy today with Korra (she believes Hiroshi Sato is involved with the Equalists somehow. The nerve of her), but other than that he has another nice day with Bolin and Asami and it is (mostly) forgotten. At night, he lingers at the window again because he is again struck by the beauty of the city and the way Avatar Aang's statue glows against the inky blackness of the ocean.
"So. You come here often?"
Asami. She comes from her room this time, closing the door gently behind her. Everything she does seems to be gentle, from the way she walks to the way she smiles to the way she looks at him. She gives him one of her gentle smiles now, reaches for his hand. Their fingers clasp together, and a faint image flashes in his mind of when his parents would hold hands and his father would raise his mothers fingers to his lips and kiss them. He does it to Asami now, brushing her knuckles against his mouth.
"Actually," he says, and he swears he sees her breath freeze in her throat. "I couldn't sleep. I was hoping you could help me."
There is a pause, and then she laughs. "Well," she says, pulling him away from the window. "You've come to the right place."
"Thank you, Asami," he says as her hands wrap around his waist. He rests his forehead against her crown. He feels her breath, shallow and warm, ricochet off his chest. "For everything. You make me feel less alone, too."
She laughs again, lays her head on his shoulder.
Her door clicks shut behind them.
The second night he spends at her house, he is nervous.