First LOK fic! :D
I do not own Legend of Korra.
I ship Makorra, and Makorra alone. Don't like? Don't read.
Yeah.
I can't believe Bolin got himself mixed up in this. First crazy fan girls, now going missing. The things I have to deal with, being his brother.
Mako kicked at a rock as he headed up the path towards what he knew was Tenzin's house. The older brother of the Fire Ferrets lightly touched his trademark scarf, a subconscious touch of comfort.
"May I help you, young man?" questioned a severe looking man, with a pointed mustache. "Ah, you must Mako, Korra's friend."
Mako nodded. Suddenly, a little boy with a shaved head darted through the sky and hurtled to the ground at Mako's feet, before he could respond.
"A strange man on our island!" screeched the kid. "The insanity!" And then he raced off on a ball of air, balancing on one foot as he zoomed around the grounds. Mako and the old man watched the boy for a bit, before shaking their heads.
"I apologize," said Tenzin. "Meelo is a…little eccentric. Now, how may I help you?"
"I'm, uh, looking for Korra," Mako confessed.
"She's up the hill, training," replied Tenzin, pointing to a small hill behind him. "She should be finished with the exercise, so go ahead and seek her out."
Mako thanked the master airbender, before heading in the offered direction. His thoughts continued to whirl, broodingly, around his responsibility as Bolin's older brother, always the responsible one, always the one in control…
"Good!" cheered a young girl's voice, as Mako crested the hill.
"Be the leaf!" called a second, sounding more energetic and girlish.
Mako glanced up, wondering what on earth kind of comment that was—
Dancing.
Mako stopped in his tracks, amber eyes on the ancient-looking artifact, decorated with Air Nomad symbols. It was whirling and spinning and creaking, powered by the two young airbenders, who were cheering on a figure in blue as she moved through it.
Is that…Korra?
It was.
Mako almost didn't recognize the young Avatar. Despite being dressed the same, with the usual hairstyle, Korra looked like a completely different person as she moved through the machine. She spun and whirled seemingly effortlessly, never touched by the wooden panels.
She was graceful and elegant, smooth and flawless, so unlike the brash, loud-mouthed, hot-tempered girl he knew. She looked like the personification of water, of air, of everything smooth and beautiful.
Mako smiled a little to himself, as Korra whirled one final time and emerged from the spinning artifact, panting.
She's dancing.
How beautiful.
Yeah, that just happened. Because I love me some Makorra. And I HATE knowing that Imma need to wait for forever and a half until they actually, ya know, get together. BECAUSE THEY WILL I SAY. THEY WILL. YES.