Me no own nothin.
I've been gone so long because I've been trying to NOT write fanfiction. Seriously. Fanfiction killed my life. But I'm weak, and since my favourite animation ever just came out with a new series that I am seriously pumped for, I gave in. Sorry for someone waiting for Vetanda, I didn't lose inspiration, but I would very much like a social life.
This will be my last fic.
Maybe.
Oh god, I'm doomed.
"What the hell was that?"
Mako didn't look up from his pro-bending gloves as he untied them, one particularly tight knot keeping his interest even as the young avatar fumed behind him.
"What the hell was what?" he asked drily, picking at the leather string with his fingernail. From the corner of his eye Mako saw Bolin sink back into the corner, not wanting to be caught in the crossfire of the battle that was sure to ensue any moment now
"Out there, in the match!" Korra yelled, and Mako was sure her hands were clenched into fists, "You blocked every single attack for me! I'm not some helpless little girl, Mako, I can block on my own with waterbending."
Mako finally succeeded in loosening the knot. His arm, elbow and shoulder pads soon piled up on the table, the red-orange leather light enough to fold in on themselves slightly. Looking at them like this, hardly able to hold themselves up, it was hard to believe they could protect him from anything.
"I'm just trying to do what's best for the team." Mako said calmly as he finally turned around to face Korra.
"Bull," she snapped at him, "I'm not some stupid first timer who'll throw people off the side of the ring anymore. I'm a real pro-bender now, and like it or not, I'm also a Fire Ferret. You can't keep babying me like this!"She hadn't taken off her helmet yet, and her angry breath fogged the plastic face cover as she glared. He noted that it shouldn't be doing that. Clearly the helmet didn't fit her right. They were going to have to fix it, or it may pose a problem during a match if she couldn't get enough air.
"Fine," he untied his sash quickly and pulled the tunic over his head, leaving him in a white undershirt and his loose pro-bending pants. He threw it on top of the other parts of his uniform, "I won't block for you anymore."
He could tell she was surprised by his lack of argument from the look of blatant shock on her face, and he took the opportunity to turn and leave. He didn't feel like an argument. She didn't call him back.