A/N: Unedited cut. Written very, very late and on alcohol.

After watching the episode, I immediately announced that Mako's a jerk. I wrote this to prove he's a jerk. Instead, like all writing, I realised he isn't a jerk after all, only a very confused teenager with a heart torn in two.

I never thought myself to be a shipper, but Legend of Korra gives me too many feels.


He brushes the dishevelled stands of hair from her face, his fingers stroking her cheek. Gently, gently, he tells himself, shaking with the effort to not hurt her already bruised and battered body. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he senses that Asami is watching, waiting, wishing that what she is seeing is wrong, that there is nothing to fear, that he still loves her.

He doesn't know anymore.

Once upon a time, he thought he did. Even after his kiss with Korra he thought he knew exactly where he was going, exactly what he was going to do, exactly what he felt in his heart. He was certain Asami was the one for him. Now, he isn't sure. He wants to be with her, yes, though by virtue of Asami herself or merely because of their history. Yet when he finds himself in Korra's presence, a heat builds under his skin, a desire to knock her over and kiss her until their lips are black and blue, a warmth in his spirit akin to that of love.

The cold wind whispers on his skin, cooling the heated flesh. Even being nearby her—being this close—makes him want to fall upon her and embrace her, hug her, hold her until she is asleep and then softly murmur into her ear until she awakens, and he restrains himself for Asami.

Asami.

Lifting his head, he looks back over, his heart clenching when he notices her broken look, her fingers curled around the collar of her shirt, her eyes drowning in sorrow and grief. Her make-up runs; is she crying? She can't cry. Not for him.

And Bolin. Even though his brother said he was over her, it's clear that Bolin isn't, not with the hurt distorting his features as rain distorts the smooth surface of a languid lake. He remembers the empty expression that passed over his brother's face when he witnessed the kiss, the blank gaze, the open mouth, the vacantness of it all, and then the tears.

That's all his relationship with Korra could be. Tears, and pain, and shattered dreams.

But for some reason he cannot stay away.

And there's something else he knows, a truth that he longs to force down and forget but must face.

Tonight, or tomorrow, or the day after that, Asami will ask. Korra will question.

And he will have to respond.

Why won't they understand? He doesn't mean to injury them or their emotions or their lives. But he cannot choose himself, and he is as wounded as they are. His heart torn in two, cracked down the middle, ripped to pieces and scattered to the four winds.

For now he has this joy, this joy he prays will never end, this joy of peace and safety and her in his arms, now and forever.

But the joy, like everything he has ever loved, will give way to grief.

He hopes it will last the night.

He knows it won't.