Word Count: 382

Disclaimer: Don't own.

A/N: This has quickly become my crackship otp for this series. Prompt (I don't tell anyone about the way you hold my hand)taken from inspired100 on LJ.

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It's all she can think about – the way they meet in the dead of night, the way his hands trail across her skin, the way his voice haunts and mesmerizes her even when he isn't speaking, the way she's kissed him numerous times and still has yet to see his face, the way she finds him completely tantalizing – but she hasn't voiced any of it. She can't. The moment his name slips from her lips, they'll all tense. The moment she infers that she's involved with him, she'll have admitted a betrayal.

She doesn't exchange any information with him – if there's one thing Asami Sato is, it's stubborn. Even if their midnight escapades are a betrayal in themselves, she would never just give up valuable information. She doesn't believe in the Equalist movement, and that is enough basis for her decisions. Of course, that wouldn't matter to her friends. Any interaction with Amon beyond fighting will confuse them at best and there's no way she can justify literally sleeping with the enemy.

So, day in and day out, she pretends as though nothing's different. She pretends that the only thing bothering her is her father. She pretends that she doesn't notice the way Korra looks at Mako and Mako looks at Korra. She pretends she's a strong girl in a great relationship. She pretends that she isn't slowly losing her place amongst her friends.

At night, she leaves the confines of the island, finding new ways to leave, new excuses to help her get away. It's a wonder they don't see her sneaking off, though she knows she's fading into the background of their lives. Why would they notice?

He tries to exploit that. She dances around his accusations, defends her friends – after all, they're the only ones she has. She doesn't let him use her. Asami Sato is anything but a helpless little girl.

And yet… she is so alone, so confused.

A blindfold, whispered words, the scent of him on her, kisses down her neck, a rapid heartbeat, labored breathing.

His kiss is all extremes of tender and rough, and is everything she desires. His fingers intertwine with hers, his warm hands much larger than hers.

This is just another thing she doesn't understand, but somehow she feels safe again.