Well, it feels like it's been ages since I've written anything. My first attempt to jump back on the lit-train.
She hadn't been crying. Her cheeks were red from the cold, bitter wind, but her eyes remained clear. And so she sat in the snow, just…thinking. Harboring thoughts that had started as a notion, then began to eat its way into her heart, wormed its way through her brain. A dull ache had started in her bones that no amount of laughter could chase away. She was tired.
She sat still in the snowdrift, her heart feeling half-numb half-cold. But she wouldn't cry. She can't.
She tries to tell herself she knew what it would have been like, being with him. His attraction to the girl was understandable. Still...still, she had wished he would be true to her, to his feelings, instead of flitting between them like a mindless butterfly, only knowing of its functions, never conscious of how the flowers might feel.
"I hate you," she whispers.
But she doesn't. She can't. She only wishes she could.
She'd rather end it with him. But he loves her, selfish though he may be. Sometimes she wants him to die, for hurting her. Sometimes she can't do anything but look at him, just look at him. It is during those times that it chokes her, how much she loves him. And she does love him. Sometimes looking at him keeps her afloat in a sea of criticism and responsibility. She doesn't feel the disappointment of others or the weight of her failures when he is around. She supposes that's why she will stay by his side.
Boots crunch the snow behind her, and a familiar warmth radiates from a familiar body. Her heart begins to tremble and lift, her head turns and she smiles. "Mako," she says. "You came."
"Yeah," he says, crouching down to hug her briefly from behind. "You're still my best friend."
Korra thinks to herself that she could never hate him. No matter what he does, she still loves him.
"I know, Mako. I know."