Just something I wrote for The Legend of Korra. It's not much, and it might be a little strange to read at first because the dialogue isn't in quotes, but it gets easier as you read, I think. I like it. I think it's decent. So here you go, Makorra fans. Here you go.
*note*: I've only watched a couple episodes at best, so I'm still unfamiliar with Korra's world. I just wanted to do a little character sketch here that focuses on a tiny snippet of Korra and Mako's relationship. I apologize for any and all out-of-characterness.
After Mako slips up and burns Korra during a heated sparring match, she tries to leave when the brothers are asleep upstairs. She doesn't want all the goodbyes, all the complications, all the feelings attached. She didn't mean to hurt anyone, just thought it'd be better this way. It looks like she's done everything she didn't mean - again. But that doesn't mean Mako's about to let her get off that easy.
Inspired by the Fray's "Look After You" and chromeknickers' "Fools Rush In" fic.
Hope you enjoy it, though I don't own anything - the cartoon, the characters, the song I listened to - but the plot. (If it can be considered that?)
You're leaving, aren't you, his voice says smoothly, neatly. Like it doesn't matter. But his eyes, dark in the shadow of the stairway, are clumsy with their secrets. They whisper differently.
Yeah, I guess I am, she replies, voice quiet, calm. Her hands tremble as she reaches for his arm, his hand. Her fingertips brush his elbow, the inside of his wrist. He laughs for no reason, laughs with everything he's got.
He laughs until it hurts and it makes her want to cry. This isn't how it was supposed to go, she thinks. I wasn't supposed to care about anyone.
Spar with me.
She wants to tell him, Mako, no, but as he steps into a patch of moonlight spread out across the floor, the words get caught in her throat like butterflies with failing wings. She's got no breath left to reject him. No strength left to walk away.
For old time's sake is written in his eyes, smoldering with something heavy, watery. She tells herself it's just sweat dripping down his cheek. He's been training hard since the last pro-bending match, harder than ever before. Of course it's just sweat. Of course it is.
Are you crying?
She has to ask it anyway. She just has to open her mouth and let the words fall out. It doesn't matter what he says, now, she tells herself. It's just sweat, he was just training, and it doesn't even fucking –
Would you kiss the tears off my face if I said yes?
His voice is a little softer, a little darker. It sounds funny in her ears, wavering. Like he's going to lose it. Like he doesn't care if he loses it in front of her.
I think I would, she says quietly, carefully, swiveling away from his touch and back into the dark. He holds her back by the elbow, lightly, gently.
Korra, you know I'll never forgive myself for –
You don't have to play the hero, Mako. I know.
He doesn't apologize and she doesn't expect him to, doesn't want him to. Her silence is gentle, patient. I don't want to leave it this way, he murmurs into the shadow of her hair. Don't think I want this, Korra, you know I –
I know. I know, okay?
No, he says with quiet conviction, you don't know. That's your problem, Korra. You're all talk. You don't listen.
Well then how about you talk and I'll listen, she whispers as she leans into him, as she lets herself fall back into the warmth of his body. She can feel the rise and fall of his chest, can smell the salt and the sweat and the tears on his skin. He drapes an arm across her abdomen, leans his chin into her shoulder.
Mako –
You said you'd listen, he says, laughing a little as she shakes her head in annoyance. Fine. I'll listen.
He keeps a hand on her abdomen, doesn't stray an inch in any other direction. Her skin's too warm under his fingers. It'd be too much to touch her anywhere else, too tempting.
I'll look after you, he says as his lips ghost over her shoulder. He doesn't dare touch her, kiss her. This is enough, he whispers, breath fanning over her skin. You're enough for me, Korra.
But you know you're lying, Mako, she says as she swivels out of his embrace, away from his amber eyes and his wicked heat and his warm, warm voice.
I'd be lying if I said anything else, he murmurs from somewhere behind her. He's too close, too distant, too much.
What did you think? That we'd go together?
She's aiming to hurt and he knows it, doesn't care, can only step closer. I always knew you'd go alone. I knew that from the very beginning, but Korra, I can't let you –
I knew you were just like everyone else.
She's lying.
He spins her around fast in his arms, murmuring for her to look at him, look at him. And when she does, she can see it – he's crying.
You're beautiful, you know, she says as he kisses his eyelids. It's the only thing left to say, the only thing she can say. She moves to the bridge of his nose, where the tears are trapped and drying away in little rivers of silver. But she lingers at his lips - unsure, hesitant.
I'll look after you, he says again as she wraps an arm around his neck, the other sliding down his collarbone and across the smooth, sinewy muscle underneath. Her hand doesn't still until it hovers over his heartbeat. Hesitating even as his eyes say that it's okay.
You don't want me, Mako, she says as she runs a hand over his cheek. I'm too rough around the edges, you know?
He moves closer to her with the grace of an airbender, sliding his arms over her shoulders and cradling her chin with his fingers.
And you're too fluid, too smooth, too –
He leans into her lips, kissing her quiet. He kisses like a firebender, she thinks as he dips her low to the ground. But there's still something fluid in the way his lips move against hers. And when he lets her go, breathing soft and heavy, she smiles in the half-light and asks what ever happened to sparring.
Your question threw me off guard, he says as he throws a towel over his shoulder and heads for the stairs. I take it you're staying, then?
If it's okay with you, she says as she walks across patches of moonlight where the windows are.
Always, Korra. His smile is crooked, gentle. Always.
So?
What'd you think?
I know there wasn't really any sparring, I had planned on putting some in there, but fighting scenes really aren't my thing. Maybe next time, eh? We'll see. I wanted to be a little more in depth with the kiss, but this is Mako we're talking about, here. He's not one to make moves, so I think kissing Korra was big enough. XD
Enough of the annoying author's note, now, promise. :3 Reviews are wonderful.
