"I can't do this anymore," she whispered in surrender as she shoved him aside, going to the living room to pick up her coat.
"Where are you going?" he demanded, following her, seeking answers; and wanting a comeback.
"Out," she spit back, as she hurriedly slipped her arms inside her blue trench coat and waddled to the door
She was eight months pregnant with their first born.
Korra placed her right hand under her engorged belly as she turned the knob of their apartment.
The past few months consisted only of numerous fights, and arguments.
Korra resisted her husband's hand on her shoulder.
There was a restrained anger to his tone. It came off as frustrated command, "Are you serious? You are eight months pregnant with our son, you can't just leave, Korra! It's the middle of the fucking night. Are you serious?"
She chuckled in bitter disgust.
Mako's grip tightened around her upper arm, trying to pull her away from the door, "Korra, come on, look at me. Have some sense."
Korra pulled away from him, and violently pushed his body away, making him lose his footing and land on the ground, "I just need to be alone right now, I'm serious." She hissed back in a scream. "Stay the fuck away from me, Mako."
She ran out of their apartment, using all her strength to put some distance between her and her husband; knowing full well he'd be on her trail.
She had known that they have been opposites since the first day they talked.
It was apparent during their meeting, their courtship, and beginning stages of marriages that they would eventually encounter clashes. It was in their personalities and opinions; it was in the way that she was impulsive and he was patient; it was in the way she was loud and he was serious.
It was the burning flame that had caused a spark, and created their initial attraction towards the other.
They were fire and ice, and as complete opposites, they were destined to bicker, and argue.
But the past few months were different. It wasn't the usual cute and fast arguments. It seemed like everything ticked them off, and soon their tiny banters had escaluated into long-houred fights. Soon the long-houred fights had turned into week-long fights.
And it was then, that she had come to the realization that she dreaded going home.
Korra could hear the quick footsteps of her husband behind her, his feet in step with hers as he sought to get to his wife. He was about six flights of stairs away from her.
"Korra!" he called anxiously, "Please! Come back! It's freezing outside. Let's work this out inside." He was anxiously worried for her and their child's wellbeing.
Korra finally reached the bottom floor and pressed the lever to open the metal door.
The rain was pouring down in thick sheets, drenching the brown indents of her locks. The harsh cold bit through her skin in a sharp frost, and she cursed herself for not bringing an umbrella.
"Korra!" Mako yelled, his voice taking on concern and desperation to keep her as safe as possible, "Please, come back inside. It's not safe for you to be outside like this. You're being crazy right now!"
Ignoring his pleas, she ran outside, slamming the metal door behind her wih a bang.
It was quiet outside.
She needed quiet.
She set off towards anything.
She needed to be away.
Needed to collect herself, and find her thoughts.
Before she made one of the biggest decisions in her life.
It was all a bit too much for her too handle.
Korra watched white puffs of smokes drift toward the dark sky. They surrounded her mouth for a brief second, in a warm comfort; shielding her away from the cold.
Her eyes lingered tentatively on the water fountain. The temperature had iced the surface of the water into a hard, white crust.
It was frozen in time, stuck in place; probably frustrated at its place in life. It needed warmth, and the assurance of the summer breeze and warm sun to return it back to its original state.
The water fountain was nothing useful in the winter by itself.
It didn't flow and create beauty.
It was nothing.
It was waiting for the summer.
But where was the fire, the warmth? Had it abandoned the water in the fountain?
Korra gulped in the air, her throat slightly choking on its shards.
Where was she?
Her eyes roved around the bare, tops of the trees.
She was at the park.
The place where she and Mako first…
Korra gave a soft, surprised cry.
She was on the otherside of the park when she slipped underneath a tree. She had lost her footing when she soaked her toes into a large puddle.
"Korra!" Mako screamed from afar, his tone filled completely with agony and terror as he ran towards his wife in a frantic and desperate haste. "Shit, fucking shit, Korra."
Korra grunted as she held her stomach, her side thankfully hitting the soft grass. She titled her body upward, as she stared at the ground. Wet locks of hair stuck to her face, shadowing her face from the bitter frost.
When he arrived, his arms were holding a dozen of jackets and scarves. His breathing was erratic and his face was flush. He didn't have time to put on his coat, so his body was red, chilled to the bone. "Spirits, Korra are you okay?" he breathed in worry, pulling away at the clothing from his arms as he sat down next to her. "I told you not to go outside, and what do you do? The exact opposite."
He franticly searched the bundle of coats as he attempted to decided how to efficiently warm her up. He sighed loudly, trying to calm his nerves.
"How's the baby? Are you okay? Does it hurt anywhere?" he asked petting her body, "Spirits, come on, let's get inside -"
That's how he always was, she supposed.
How they always were.
Fighting one moment.
Sweet the next.
Fight after fight.
Apology after apology.
Forever in a cycle of making up and breaking down.
Would it always be like…this? This way?
Was there really no in-between?
"I can't do this, Mako," she murmurred in a tiny broken whisper, shaking her head in slow defiance, her eyes refusing to meet his gaze, "I don't want to do this anymore." She backed away from his gentle fingers.
He chuckled, "Is it about the fight? Okay, okay," he said in a playful tone, trying to coax her to come to the apartment and see reason. "You win. You win. Now, let's get you inside, okay? You must be freezing. We don't want you getting hypothermia."
Korra titled her head up to the sky, white snowflakes of sprinkles were falling towards the ground in slow sweeps.
She quivered beneath the breeze.
Korra was surprised to find herself cold. She was a South Pole girl, afterall. Born, and raised.
Where was her usual crisp and enduring body which loved the cold?
It had seemed she had stayed too long in Republic City.
Maybe it was time for her to return home.
Mako noticed her trembling, and started to bundle her franticly with gloves and extra coats and shawls. There was fear on his face, and desperation for her to be kept as warm as possible.
When he finished bundling her up, he made a move to carry her in his arms.
Her husband moved to place his arms under her knees and behind her back.
Korra backed away again.
"Korra," he sighed in surrender, his voice coming off with impatience, "I said you won the fight. Now, just come, let me take you home." His voice was caked with annoyance.
She refused to look at him.
She could feel the chapped lips of her skin peel, and she licked at them to moisten it wet.
The harsh winds blew in their direction, the moaning of the waves coming off as whimpered cries of help…for someone to hear them. To hear her.
"No," she said pulling away, "I don't want to do this anymore," she repeated, cowering from his touch, refusing to look him in the eye, "Not this…," her voice came off as a broken choke, "Not with you…not anymore."
Mako's eyes widened as his motions slowed. He found his arms dragging droopingly at his sides as he watched her, pulling back. "Wha—?" he chuckled in a dry laugh, his tone telling her he had fully understood her words, her implications, but hoping that he had misunderstood.
She swallowed the vicious burn in her throat. "This…what we have..isn't..it isn't what it has been and I've been thinking it won't ever be what it's been and that's why I think it'd be better…if we..I think we should…have a —" Her phrases were broken. She was trying desperately to form her intentions together. To get out what she's been thinking about for months.
She couldn't make herself say it. A part of her didn't want to be like the others who had a separation.
She wanted to wholeheartedly believe that they were different from the others.
In no way was their marriage filled with anything but love.
Their love was most realest, and purest love a person could experience. It was genuine, and honest; the most softest and tenderest type of love that a person could share with the someone else.
It consisted of sacrifies, and tears; and when he said he'd die for her, it was more than an expression. He'd meant it.
But then the fights had came, and severed this connection. Tainted everything; their feelings, their words, their actions.
He had meant it when he said he'd die for her.
Before.
But did he still mean it?
"I don't think we were meant for each other," she whispered in a hushed tone, her voice barely audible. "We aren't…who we were anymore." She paused, her eyelids shaking as she held back her sobs, "It's different, now. We're different now."
His tongue was dry and he found himself trembling, but not from the bitter freeze.
He finally understood the meaning to her words.
"Korra," he begged, leaning towards her, only for her to move farther away from him.
He swallowed as he gripped the snow covered earth, "I know, the past few months has been difficult…but please," he begged, his voice indicating that he was close to tears, "We'll get through this. I know we will. Because we love each other-" He said in a choked rasp.
"No we don't." she whispered, feeling both their hearts shattering.
"At least," she paused, interrupting him, her voice coming off as a bitter, choked laughing drone, "I don't…"
She looked up to meet his eyes, but found only distressed hurt in his gaze, a stop in his breathing. She added, "at least, I think I don't."
He bowed his head, his fingers just wanting to hold her to him, and reassure her about all her doubts and fears about their marriage.
"Tell me what to do," he whispered desperately.
He was losing them.
The love of his life. His rock. The one who knew who him better than he knew himself.
And she was going to take the fruit of their love, away with her. Away from him.
His son. His boy. His own.
Something they both created in a heat of unquestioning love and devotion.
"Please," he begged.
Mako couldn't lose them.
"Seven things…" she whispered to him.
He looked up at her in hope. "Seven…"
"Tell me seven things that you love about me," she whispered, the rain mixing with tears pouring from her eyes, " And I have to believe them. Every single one of them. Just.." she breathed, her sigh tired from all the fights that they have had the past few months, "seven things that tell me that this," she patted her swollen belly in a tender hold, "this is worth it. And that it'd get better; and you still love as much as you did when we were teenagers."
His voice cracked, "I don't…I don't…"
"Fine," she yelled, kneeling, her patience with him finished. "I fucking understand now."
"No wait, wait," he pleaded grabbing onto her, rain seeping into his scalp as he aligned their foreheads together, his hands holding her tightly to stay still.
They were both kneeling underneath the tree where they both slept under Naga while they searched for Bolin.
They were underneath the tree where they had their date…and wedding ceremony.
It was their tree.
Mako closed his eyes.
"I love the way your neck smells when I wake up to you in the morning," he whispered, breathing harshly against her lips, searching her blank eyes to ignite their flame.
She refused to be influenced.
"Okay." Her voice was empty.
"I…I," he swallowed nervously, racking his brain for their memories, "I love the way your ass looks when you wear that red thong," he said seriously. Because - spirits, he really did love that about her.
He saw it.
There was a twinkle of laughter in her tone as she hissed back, covering her amusement, "Mako!"
"Okay," he sighed, unable to feel his skin. He still hadn't put on a coat.
Suddenly, the rain had blurred into a slush, and he could feel it morph into something rougher, and thicker. It was starting to snow hard.
The snow was beginning to become a blizzard around them. He pressed himself against her so that his body heat would transfer to their child.
He attempted to pull her chin up but she moved her face against his neck, shaking her head.
"I loved the way you called me an idiot even though we were total strangers. It didn't stop you from calling me out, when I totally ignored you. And that's because you're just so stubborn and headstrong and you just make me so riled up. But I love that about you because you're just so crazy -"
"You called yourself an idiot; I just agreed with what you said," she corrected. "Someone had to tell you, and make you less broody," she said, finally looking up, her voice indicating a tiny smile to the edge of her lips.
Within that moment, she finally looked up at him.
Her face had multiple streaks of dirt and tears.
"Korra," he whispered against her forehead, dragging his thumbs along the contours of her cheeks.
"Korra," he murmurred, once again, his lips grazing the curve of her lower cheek. His voice indicated that he was in a mesmerized trance at her beauty. His tone came off almost as if he was in complete wonder and awe at how she was his.
"Okay," she sniffled, "That counts for two. Three more, Mako."
He laughed back, tears falling from his eyes, as he held onto her desperately, and he buried his face into the curve of her neck, "I love how you asked permission from my mom and dad if you could marry me."
She chuckled, her arms, finally touching him back. Her fingers curled into his scarf, "I love how you even wanted to marry me after meeting my dad."
"Spirits -" the firebender said with exacerbation at the memory. "Hardest three months of my life."
"Two more."
He licked his lips, his voice taken with soft gentleness, "I love the fact that you're my wife, and the mother to my child…my children. And I love it, because I know you're gonna be a great mother."
He could tell by her erratic breath that her body was starting to weaken from the frigid cold air. She softened within his arms. His voice paused, "And I love that you love me…because I don't deserve someone as amazing and brave and selfless as you." It was a raw and honest confession, his voice mixed with fear and desperation for her to believe his words.
Words that he meant years ago.
And still meant now.
She quieted in his arms.
He breathed, and tried his statement again. Would she deny his words again? "Because…because we love each other…and I know things will work out…" He voice was full of unsureness.
She didn't negate his statement.
She knew it as well.
She loved him.
She would always love him.
Her body felt like icicles, "I'm cold…Mako." she whispered, her eyes tilting to a exhausted close, her body limp in his hold.
His blood boiled as images of her untimely death crossed his mind.
"No, no, no," he whispered as he franticly squirmed, "Should I take you to the hospital? Spirits, you're having the baby, aren't you? Aren't you. Oh my -"
He loved her.
Spirits, knew just how much he loved this woman.
She was his everything.
"Just take me home," she whispered, her arms crossing behind his head, "I'm cold."
He sighed in relief.
Mako smiled against her temple, placing a chaste kiss to her forehead, as he scooped her into him.
He nodded as he steadied himself and started walking.
She was so soft and fragile in his arms, almost as if any movement would break the peace they had created around themselves; and even though it was colder than before, there was no longer any harsh, moaning winds.
They were quiet…almost as if it had found peace.
The moon was bright in the sky. It filtered against the patches of darken tree branches, and illuminated their way home.
Korra slithered a warm mittened hand against Mako's left breast, and clenched her fingers tightly against him.
She resembled a child; broken, and vulnerable.
Korra had curved her shape into him, turning light in his arms. She was just right. She was his missing puzzle piece. She fit just right with him, for him.
He cooed slight comforts in her ear, and held her a bit tighter.
"No more fights?" she asked in a tiny whisper, her eyes still shut and asleep.
He nodded, "No more fights," he reinforced.
It was cold outside. Probably below 0. And for a firebender in only a white t-shirt and thin cotton pajama bottoms and slippers, it was probably far worst.
But even so..
He smiled as he looked down on his wife, his gaze falling down to her belly.
The cold nipped at his skin.
She smiled against his chest.
He suddenly felt a bit warmer.
Even though the cold snow was slicing away his bare skin, he knew that even if he was bundled up with all the scarves and coats in the world, he'd never be as warm as he felt right now.
A/n: Christina here, so like i was watching malcolm in the middle and there was scene where they were fighting and she was in the rain, and in labor. She said she couldn't take it anymore. Them. Their fighting. And that they couldn't keep on doing what they were doing. He was at a loss at what he should do. She demanded that she tell him 7reasons why he loved her. & it was the most honest and rawest thing i have ever watched. & it sorta made me believe in marriage, idk. just wanted to write it…really inspired this. :) Hoped you liked it.
