Rating: K+

Word count: ~1100

Summary: For the Makorra Week prompt "Masquerade." Sometimes the masks worn aren't a physical addition to the body. They are brave faces and facades that need to be washed off at the end of the day.

Author Note: This was going to be super angsty, but I thought Makorra Week should start off with a celebration of their relationship. Enjoy!

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Korra stepped through the apartment threshold calmly, and hung her coat up neatly on the rack next to Mako's uniform jacket.

Red flag number one.

She always flung her jacket wherever she pleased. No matter if she was tired or elated, her outerwear never ended up where it belonged.

Carefully, she removed her snow sodden boots and placed them on the drying mat and lined them up next to his.

Red flag number two.

She always kicked her boots off haphazardly; dirty street-water pooling on the floor.

Korra was late this evening, and more so that usual. Difficulties with spirit integration had sprung up again over human exploitation of Spirit World resources. Negotiations were hitting a fever pitch, and the Avatar was of course right in the middle of it. Somehow, he escaped the extra security shifts that much of the forced was burdened with, and continued with his normal homicide detective duties.

"Hey sweetie," Mako smiled at his girlfriend of three years. "I made dinner and left it on simmer for you. Want me to dish some out for you?"

"No, I'm not hungry."

Red flag number three.

She was always hungry. He had watched her devour a full serving of blubbered seal jerky after a full meal. And she absolutely adored his cooking. Not that she had much of a decision anyway; he only trusted her with cooking that involved meat over an open flame as other methods proved borderline disastrous for their living space.

She started off towards their bedroom, "I'm going to get changed."

"Are you sure I can't make you something?" He turned around on the couch and watched her disappear into the dark room.

"No, but thank you."

Red flag number four.

Korra's tone of voice was utterly diplomatic and level. Nowhere was her quickness to anger to vent the frustrations she surely had from the day.

Mako sighed and placed his paperwork aside. He rolled his neck and relaxed his shoulders. She never hid her emotions from him; most of the time she couldn't. In many ways she was just like that seventeen-year-old girl who came to Republic City with her heart on her sleeve.

Being the first Avatar of the new era weighed heavily on her shoulders each day and it took its toll. Some days there were bags under her eyes. Others brought muscle strains and deep bloody gashes that she refused to have checked out by professional healers. And some nights, there was this; suffering in silence that she refused to break herself.

"Korra?" Mako stepped quietly through the threshold.

He watched her methodically remove her clothing down to her bindings, and fold her usual Water Tribe garb neatly. She dropped down to the edge of the bed. Her hands were folded in her lap with eyes cast downward into the darkness of the room.

Without hesitation he sat down next to her and kissed her shoulder. When she got like this, it was up to him to remove the mask from her and allow her to relax.

"Let me sit behind you," he mumbled into her skin.

Korra nodded mutely and allowed him to kneel behind her on the bed.

He kissed the back of her neck and rubbed his thumbs in soothing circles over her shoulders. Mako was no expert, but years of injuries and pro bending strains gave him a bit of experience rubbing out muscle knots. He loved treating her like this; watching her melt into the bed and moan in pleasure was plenty a reward.

Slowly but surely, he moved his practiced hands over her muscled back. And slowly but surely, she began to relax into his hands. He pulled out her wolf tails, allowing her hair to flow freely down her back.

"Lie down and I can do a better job."

She followed his instructions and flopped on to the bed facedown.

Mako started again, but started just where her bindings stopped and worked his way up her spine. Even like this, he was gorgeous. The fact that she was his was still unbelievable to him. She was extraordinary, and he was…just him.

"Do you want do tell me what's wrong?" He switched his motions to a light caress, just ghosting over her skin.

"Everyone is crazy." The pillow muffled her voice as she spoke. "No one will budge from what they want in the negotiations."

He pulled back the covers and motioned her under before curling up beside her.

"And they need an Avatar to lead the negotiations. They need someone who can mediate and someone who is confident," Korra's voice began to crack and he could see tears beginning to spring up in the corners of her eyes. "And how am I supposed to do all that when I'm not even sure if I made the right decision leaving the portals open?"

"Hey come here," he pulled her close and whispered sweet nothings into her hair.

"And I have to pretend to be all that in front of everybody…it's like I leave and I put on a mask every day."

"Well…"

Sometimes he felt the best he could do for her was just to hold her close. He didn't always know what to say to fix whatever was wrong.

"You've made so many other threats seem like nothing. Look at me," Mako tipped her tear-laden face up. "You'll get through this just like you have everything else. You have everything you need to figure this out."

They kissed. He tried to pour everything he felt about her into the movement of his lips. How he loved her so much and how he admired her for being the most brave and amazing person he had met. Mako cupped her face and caressed down to her neck.

"Thank you," her voice was a whisper, their foreheads pressed together.

"Always."