Bon Appetite.
Playing Pretend
Firebenders rose with the sun. Allegedly. Yet as the brilliance of the sun's light scattered darkness from the sky, he slumbered still. Not so much of a firebender, she teased internally. She stroked his cheek affectionately. Hues of champagne, rose and umber splashed across his marble canvas, illuminating his downy dreams. She stared at the beauty unfolding.
In the languid breathlessness of dusk, he was beautiful. His heartbeat pulsed deep within the cadence of a groggy Republic City. Their sighs and yawns only fluffing his pillow and encouraging more rest. Let's face it, he deserved the rest. She sighed in serenity.
In this unguarded hour, the world seemed beautiful.
What a terrible, terrible lie.
Korra could only watch with vigilant silence. In reverence, her eyes traced the man before her. His masculine lines softened into a childish pout in slumber, so trusting, so innocent. Such a terrible lie. The world ravaged his innocence and his trust, the world: a cruel and spiteful mistress. Yet cocooned in his sinewy warmth, tangled in pristine white sheets, she could fantasize of the forbidden. She could pretend. With him, saturated in his essence, she allowed herself to pretend.
A whining sigh escaped his lips. She soothed his nightmares into rest with the melody of her voice. Delicately, she whispered of tranquility, of hope, of love. Seemingly satisfied, he murmured unintelligently, grasping her waist more securely. She held her breath, he slumbered on.
"I love you," she whispered. A wisp of a thought, a forbidden confession.
She didn't expect a response.
"You're late."
Bright red bloomed across her face and the tip of her ears. "I—I am?" she stuttered.
"You're late." His breath tickled the shell of her ear, she shivered involuntarily. "For airbending training."
The breath wooshed out her lungs forcefully as if she had the ability to airbend. Of course everyone knew that she couldn't have. Obviously, she thought sardonically, half-baked Avatar. His exhalations prickling her skin brought her back to reality. Her blush consumed the apples of her cheeks even more pronounced than before. She hid her face under the hollow of his throat.
"Oh." Right. Training.
He chuckled, "What's wrong?" She concluded that he obviously failed to have heard her declaration. She almost wished he had.
Almost.
Cupping her chin, he tilted her nose to nose with his. "Did I do something wrong last night?" It was his turn to flush in embarrassment.
"No, no."
Last night.
The breaths and the gasps and the moans and the heat. That burning ache, that all-consuming hunger. That need to be swallowed whole by his entire being. He was the pyre, and she, the sacrificial lamb.
She swallowed thickly.
Oh yes, about last night.
"It was nice," she whispered bashfully. They stared at one another knowingly, the tension mounting within his restless heart. Unaware and extremely naïve, Korra continued to stroke his face lovingly. It did nothing to quell his raging hormones. So many words unspoken, left to the mercy of interpretation, the language of sensation. The rhythm of her thumb enthralled him. Her flat stomach against his hard planes enticed him. Sensation was too much. His eyes flickered to how her innocent orbs shyly headed south. Mako smirked.
"I'm glad," he murmured before tilting her cherry lips to collide with his own. They stayed tangled together relishing the feel, the language. He delicately nibbled her bottom lip and she whimpered, unrehearsed in the art. The Art of…her blush settled permanently, she couldn't even say the word!
He groaned and pulled her on top of him, heated hands grasping her hips to collide with his own shamelessly. He remembered why he woke and moaned for an entirely different reason. "Korra," He pulled away, lips still barely parting from hers. "Korra," he whined. Spirits, she wasn't stopping. Her tongue, he growled, her hips. Flipping her over, he pinned her wrists down on the mattress. "We need to stop," he breathed heavily, restraining the urge to grind animalistically. Korra looked up, eyed glazed and wanton.
Stop that, he seethed.
"You'll be late for airbending with Tenzin."
"Oh." Right. Training.
He chuckled again, she looked so despondent.
Moments of silence passed before she responded. "I don't want to go." Nibbling those delicious cherry lips self-consciously, "I want to stay with you. Like this." Her eyes searched his, "Just for today." A promise. "Just for today, I want to pretend," she paused unsurely, "That you're in love with me." She looked away shamefully. The Avatar shouldn't be begging for a boy damn it! A boy who ransacked her soul and ran away with her heart in the dead of the night. Yet, here she was with the same thief, the same boy, stealing more of herself every single day. A treacherous, beautiful boy.
He could only stare, enraptured. He couldn't say yes, not when—no, Asami, Korra. No, he wouldn't do that to her, to either of them. He couldn't pretend. Yet as Mako looked at her broken shards of blue, he shook his head and smiled sadly, resolutely. Alright. "Just for today."
What a terrible, terrible lie.
They stared at one another longingly, the forbidden fruit, and the cruel reality of it all. This game was dangerous. Too dangerous, she swallowed thickly, the risks were too high. He kissed her sweetly. Yet to them, it didn't seem to matter. As he teasingly nipped at her mouth, she couldn't help but play pretend. Lying back on his side, Mako settled down and secured Korra's waist closer. He gladly breathed her fresh scent in bliss, giving one final kiss to her neck. She giggled in response. The young lovers snuggled under pristine white sheets, milk soft blankets shielding them from the harshness of reality. They cuddled, recklessly dreaming those downy dreams illuminated by the brilliance of the sun.
They held each other tightly, afraid of letting go, afraid of the truth of it all, and they fantasized of pretending. They pretended their love was not true, because tainted lust was so much more affordable. The fragile lie of only the heat and never the heart were wistfuls of smoke, yet each still desperately grasped for ashes. He was never going to be just hers. She was never going to be just his.
Yet in the brilliance of the sun, they foolishly played pretend, fantasizing of the forbidden.
In this unguarded hour, they spun terrible, terrible lies.
Hello my fellow readers and writers! It would be a huge service to me if you reviewed this particular fanfiction because I'm always looking to improve myself as a writer to make your reading experience more enjoyable.
I'm always looking out for you guys. I got yo back.
*Sigh*
Anyways. So get at it! Put on your proverbial boxing gloves and get IT done. Go ahead, do your worst.