A/N: So this was supposed to be posted the day I left for Japan, but alas school stuff got in the way, I needed to edit it, and I was too excited for my semestral break so here it is now. Enjoy!

—-

"So, do you like it? The house, I mean." His voice is low and husky, nervousness laced in it. While setting down her single suitcase filled with clothes with a small thud, he looks at her and rolls the sleeves of his button up to his elbows.

Do you like it? She really thinks about it. It's a loaded question. Being here for a mere fifteen minutes and he's already asking questions that usually take months, maybe even years to answer. How can she judge something based off of looks alone? For all she knew, the house could be haunted, filled with ghosts or demons or ghouls ready to kill her in her sleep. She tries to not get ahead of herself.

It is big and cozy, and it looks like something akin to those mansions in magazines. Luxurious, but lifeless.

Vivid blue eyes scan the room, her bedroom, as she fumbles with the silver ring in her hand. The soft beige walls, the large bed with plush white sheets, the antique furniture, the posh, dim light situated above them. She feels spoiled. She's not used to it. It is similar to that of culture shock and she doesn't know how to react. She feels like a princess and she believes that he no doubt would do anything in his power to make her happy, with the little that they know of one another. But then she can sense his gaze on her, waiting for her response.

Turning to the man she's supposed to view as a father, Korra smiles. "I love it," she half lied. She did like it, but it just felt too new to her. Maybe in time she'll feel less like a stranger in her new home.

A sigh of relief leaves him as his broad shoulders visibly relax. "I'm glad you do."

Korra walks into her room, running the pads of her fingers along the fine wood and placing the ring delicately on a shelf. She can still sense his gaze on her, and looks over her shoulder to meet his pale blue eyes. He's leaning against the frame of the door, the tiniest of smirks lining his lips. The man must be proud of how the room turned out. She imagined him designing it with her in mind, despite barely knowing her on a personal level. A strange shiver crawls through her body, making her immediately look away.

"Umm, why do you want me?" Her voice is soft, meek. Reaching the bed, Korra hesitantly sits on it, sinking into the plush mattress. She can't help but to lay down into the soft white sheets beneath her. The ones at the orphanage were usually worn down to a thin piece of rough fabric as the years of the establishment shone through. She can only remember the vague feeling of a new blanket wrapped around her. At that time, she was still with her real parents.

"Pardon?" The man strides into her room, the tiny smirk widening as he watches her hesitantly snuggle into the bed like a cautious feline. Tarrlok settles next to her, lying with his arms behind his head.

"Why do you want me?" She repeats. "You know I'm not exactly a child, I'm a seventeen year old. Usually people that come by the orphanage want a little kid," She remembers people fawning over the babbling babies. "Like the babies in diaper or baby food commercials, especially that one on Flameo Family."

She's been in the orphanage for five years, and she can understand why adults prefer babies and toddlers rather than the teenagers about to go off to college. But that did not stop Korra from wanting a family. Korra had this notion that she would get adopted by a loving family, the picture-perfect family. One with a mom, a dad, and maybe a sibling or two. But that's just a wish that wouldn't happen. Reality settles on her shoulders and instead she's adopted by a single man.

Not that it is a problem, but she wishes that she could feel the warmth of a loving, nurturing family. To go back in time when her real parents were there with her.

He laughs. A laugh that surprisingly sounds quite nice to Korra. "Personally, I prefer an older child," He stares at the ceiling.

"Why's that?" She turns to him, eying at his profile as a sudden blush colors her cheeks. She won't say it out loud, but he has a nice face - a face that no one could help but to look at. His eyes are a piercing pale blue, fine lines showing the faintest hint of crow's feet at the edge, his cheekbones high and sunken in, but not unhealthily so. He had a nice, defined nose and thin, determined lips, a jawline that could cut glass, and long luscious, brown hair, tied in a loose ponytail, similar to her own. He sure is handsome.

"I'm a politician. I've always wanted a family of my own, but I work long hours. I couldn't bare the thought of leaving a little child alone with a stranger. I would want to be there for the child as much as possible." He turns to her, meeting her gaze easily. "Older children, however, are much more capable of understanding certain circumstances and they don't need constant monitoring, especially at your age," he touches her ponytail, twirling the brown strands around his fingers. "And I can trust that you can handle yourself during the time I'm gone, right?"

"Maybe." A mischievous smirk lines her lips. But then he chuckles softly and her smile turns the tiniest bit more genuine. "I know you said you wanted a family of your own, but I honestly can't see you taking care of a toddler." She said bluntly, immediately regretting saying something so honest to the man.

"What makes you say that?" The wicked glimmer in his eyes slightly distracts her, but decides to go along with it anyway.

Shrugging, she cracks her knuckles and notices him cringe, a smile lining her lips. "I don't know, you seem a tad bit prissy." Abruptly, her mind imagines the man in front of her changing a dirty diaper, filled with a faceless baby's crap and she releases a bark of laughter. "You'd probably throw up trying to change a diaper." She giggled.

His grip on her brown strands tightened to get her attention. "And you wouldn't?" His voice lowered as did his lids.

"It's disgusting for sure, but you see a lot of things in an orphanage, whether you want to or not." Her shoulders shake occasionally from the giggles and recalls the first year she stayed in the orphanage when one of the caretakers was changing a baby's diaper, piss and shit and vomit drenched the poor woman by the time she was done.

"Regardless, I'd venture to say I'm lucky that you're here rather than one of those crawling creatures." Long fingers slowly tug at the tie holding her hair together, until it falls loose. He runs his fingers through the soft strands, gently untangling the knots.

The smirk was effectively wiped from her face, a burning blush replacing it. Holding her breath, Korra stares at his icy eyes. Her heart pounding a million beats per minute. She's not used to being touched like this, or being touched at all, in fact. Most kids in the orphanage kept to themselves. Most dealt with more traumatic things in their lives when compared to her own. The last time someone ran their fingers through her hair, it ended in flames.

She willed herself to relax, knowing Tarrlok was doing this out of affection. That he suddenly won't combust into a burning fire right in front of her eyes. Once her body loosened up, she felt like she could melt into a puddle of goo. His touch was uncharacteristically soothing. The lethargic, gentle strokes lightly graze her scalp and promptly feels her body react to his touch.

Korra retraces her footsteps and wonders if he had someone special in his life. He claimed he was single, and he doesn't have that silver or gold band wrapped around his finger. Surely, he must have someone occupying his thoughts other than her though, right? "You don't have a wife?"

"No," he said bluntly.

"Why not?" He is handsome to look at, she already established that, and she's genuinely confused.

"No one intrigued me," He reaches out to tuck the stray tendrils framing her face behind an ear.

The feather-light touch sends a chill throughout her body. "...And no one was interested in you either?" Korra asks slowly.

"Oh women loved me, most definitely," He chuckled. She pictures faceless women throwing themselves at him. Does he like women with sophistication and intelligence? With compassion and warmth? Or maybe women with sensuality and witty banter? It's a strange line of thought, thinking of these women canoodling up to the man right in front of her. Why is she even thinking about this? It is not any of her business anyways. It comes as very strange to her so Korra immediately banishes it from her mind. "But that's besides the point, the times I was in a relationship, it never lasted long."

"That's odd,"

"Why do you say that?" He wraps a finger around a strand of hair.

"No reason," Leaning closer to her, Tarrlok hums in acknowledgement, not wanting to push her further, and closes his eyes. She isn't breathing any more, but she can detect his scent as it envelopes her. Oddly enough, Korra loves it, vanilla and the faint hint of cigarette smoke. Her eyes hone in on the artery pulsating on the side of his neck and for whatever reason, it calms her further, watching the steady beat.

As the seconds tick by, she feels the heavy pull of her lids, gradually closing shut. Their breaths eventually match each others and she tries to stifle a yawn.

Korra can't remember the last time she felt at ease, especially lying here in a stranger's bed. It's weird and strange and odd, but lying here in the midst of summer and with her supposed father somewhat reminds her of her time with her real dad when she was only about twelve or so. It's something she couldn't say when she was in the orphanage, and it's definitely not something she expected to feel when she moved into Tarrlok's estate, especially on the first day.

"I'm tired." she whispers, immediately regretting disturbing the silence. Immediately regretting she said anything because the feeling of his fingers stroking her hair stops suddenly.

Roused from her barely audible voice, Tarrlok takes a deep breath in, removing his hand from her loose locks and stretched his tired muscles as he is already moving away from her, "You take a nap, I'll start making some food." He says, but Korra's hand quickly grasps his larger one.

"Stay," She says abruptly. "Please."

She doesn't know what compelled her to do it, to pull his hand back to her, to get his attention once more. Yet she did it. Her heart was beating faster, a blush rapidly making its way to her cheeks, and the other hand grips the sheets around her tightly. It's a stark contrast from her relaxed state just moment earlier.

He only stood there, his warm hand grasped in hers and she honestly did not know what she was doing. Tarrlok nodded, not saying a word, in what she presumed was understanding. He didn't need to say anything and she didn't need to hear it. He was watching her loosen the tight grip of her white sheets, instead to pull it over her body, making space for him. Settling in the empty spot at the edge of the bed, he laid on his side to face her. Warm arms wrapped around him and he couldn't help feel taken aback.

Korra's already getting comfortable up against him. Snuggling against his chest, breathing in his scent, eyes peacefully shut closed, and hoping to fall asleep without nightmares.

Just when she thought he was second guessing staying with her, she feels strong arms envelope her tinier form, his chin propped on top of her head. It's warm and inviting and it reminds her a lot of her father's hugs. The tiniest of smiles curved her lips and she tried to let her body relax into the warmth once again.

Maybe this place isn't so bad, after all.

Korra!

Somebody was screaming her name.

Korra!

They repeated, almost in a weak cry.

"Korra," she's roused with a tiny shake of her shoulder. It's not the weak voice she dreamt of. Instead, it's Tarrlok's.

"Huh?" Her eyes squint, scanning the room frantically.

"You're crying," His brows are furrowed in worry, a look that doesn't suit him. The pad of his thumb gently wipes away the tears staining her cheeks and she blushes, quickly looking away from him towards the ring on her dresser.

"Oh, that, it's nothing," she laughs, but there's no humor in it. Korra lightly bats his hand away, sitting up on the plush mattress. She hated crying in front of people. Hated the feeling of being vulnerable and pitied. She's no stranger to the feeling, having felt that all throughout her early teens, anyway.

"Are you okay?" He asks gently, sitting up next to her, only to tuck the stray hairs behind her ear.

"...Yeah, never better." She lied, offering him a smile that did not reach her eyes.

"Right," He sighed, clearly skeptical that she was hiding something from him. Tarrlok did not want to press further. No. She'll talk to him eventually. "Well, in any case, if you ever want to talk, I'm here."

"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind." She said stiffly. Looking away in thought, the man next to her watches her twiddling fingers.

As much as the sentiment was there, and she did appreciate it, she did not want to talk to him about it just yet. He's still a stranger to her. Even though she was almost certain the caretakers at the orphanage told him everything about her past anyways. Maybe not everything, but definitely what happened to her parents. That's what made her uneasy. Not knowing what was said to a stranger, especially with something that keeps her up at night, wishing she could take it all back. So much for confidentiality they promised.

She didn't realize it until now that the sun was setting, casting the room in a soft orange glow. And that they were sitting on her bed in silence. Just the two of them. Alone. It was starting to get awkward when she really thought about it, but just as she was about to get up, Tarrlok cleared his throat.

"You relax and cool yourself down for now, maybe take a shower if you want. I'll cook us something." He was already sliding out from the warm space under the covers, when her hand reaches out for his to stop him once again.

He turned his gaze to her, patiently waiting. Pale blue irises lock with vivid ones and she bites her lower lip, not knowing how to go about this. Without consequence, she mentally said fuck it. Suddenly, his breath left him all at once when strong, yet feminine arms wrapped around his neck in a tight embrace.

"Thank you," she breathed.

"For what?" He asked, body tensing at the way she nearly choked him.

"For adopting me," she really did mean it. Although it was not the family she pictured in her mind, it could've ended up a lot worse than it is now. And if she really thought about it, Korra didn't mind that it was just the two of them. No rivalry between siblings, no sharing of materialistic belongings, no expectations she needed to live up to. She could be the real Korra. The Korra that was left behind years ago.

Yes, he is a single man, but even with that thought, it doesn't bother her that she's the only girl in his life at the moment. That could change in a week or a month, or even a year. But at the moment, she appreciates him. She reasons that he does seem nice enough, albeit sometimes a little too condescending and smug for his own good, but nice nonetheless. Selfishly, she kind of revels in that undivided attention. It's more than what she received in the orphanage. She's not used to it, but Korra thinks she can learn to love it in due time.

A smile curved his lips as his arms enveloped her, inhaling her sweet fragrance. The tight embrace only lasts a few seconds, he does not want it start getting awkward again, but he can sense it is genuine.

"What would you like for dinner? It's going to be a long night with what we need to discuss," he puts some distance between them, looking into her blue depths.

"Surprise me," she shrugged, smiling mischievously as he sighed.

"Ok, surprise it is," he chuckled, moving towards the door. She gets out of bed and he almost disappears from her view - all but a hand holding the door frame - but then she remembers.

"Oh, before I forget, where are the towels?" She asked sheepishly, standing at the foot of her bed.

"There should be some fresh towels on the bathroom counter," his head pops from behind the wooden frame. "If not, they're in the cabinet below the sink."

"Thanks, Tarrlok." she smiles again.

"Please call me dad or father, since I technically am now." He huffs.

"Nah, I like Tarrlok," Korra teased, trying to make the atmosphere more lighthearted.

With a slight roll of his eyes, Tarrlok disappears to what she assumed will be the kitchen. She hopes he's a good chef. Hoping that she doesn't have to cook all the time or that she has to lie and deal with the grotesque pieces of food he made. Already having to go through that at the orphanage was tough, never again did she want to experience that.

Padding along to her suitcase, Korra ruffles through her clothes carelessly, thinking she'll end up folding them again as she settles into her new home. Setting aside numerous articles of clothes, she pulls out some underwear, shorts, and a baggy shirt, something she usually wears to sleep, especially in the hot and humid nights in the orphanage.

With the clothes grasped in one hand and the other closed the suitcase shut with a thud, Korra walks into the room attached to hers.

Just like the rest of the house, the bathroom is nothing short of luxurious. The marble tiles that are a shade different from the ones outside her room, glass separating the shower, fresh orchids placed on the counter - along with scented candles, a stereo, and the stack of fresh towels.

Spirits, this is an intimidating turn around from the orphanage. From a shared, grimey bathroom with clumped hair blocking the drain, to this, Korra mildly wonders how it would feel to be courted by Tarrlok. Whoever the girl was, they were sure to be spoiled rotten.

Shaking her head, Korra places the pile of clothes on the cold counter and strips herself of her clothes, landing in a heap on the floor. It really is a long day.

—-

The scent of delicious food wafted throughout the huge house. It's something very familiar to her, something her mother would make, but she couldn't quite place her finger on it, knowing it was surely something heavenly by the way her mouth watered.

Abruptly, her stomach growled. Not realizing until now that she barely ate a thing today, she pats herself dry with the soft towel Tarrlok prepared for her and wraps it around her dripping strands.

Quickly putting some clothes on, Korra stumbled through her room to get her brush. Hurriedly she throws the piece of cloth on her bed, ignoring that it's still damp and will eventually leave an outline on her sheets. She brushes her hair, yanking at the tangles in her wet hair that would make surely Tarrlok wince.

She quickly makes her way down the marble stairs and notes the scent of cooking food intensifies. Unconsciously placing a hand on her stomach, she follows the scent, ending up in the kitchen as he showed her earlier in the day. His back is to her as he slaves away over the stove. He sports a pink, frilly apron that nearly makes her giggle, but decided against it.

Her focus roves from the apron tied around his neck to the outline of his physique. Korra notes that he has a nice back, even through his button up that is now wrinkled because of their nap.

Stopping that line of thought, she quietly moves to his side, attempting to catch a peek at the delicious scent.

"What's that?" She points her index finger towards the fried pieces of food.

"Tempura and miso soup," he said, the smile audible in his voice.

Korra straightens her body as if burned, hands on her hips with a derpy expression on her face. "Did the caretakers tell you everything about me, or are you a mind reader?"

"Neither," he laughs, looking over his shoulder with a glimmer of mirth in his eyes. "Why, do you like tempura and miso soup?"

"Like it? More like love it. It's my favorite," She smiled. Inhaling the scrumptious scent, she danced closer to his side, watching as he deftly adds nori to the simmering water. Silence greets them as the only sound comes from the bubbling oil. "You know what's weird?" She looks at him, silently noting their height difference, the top of her head barely grazing his shoulder.

"What?" He prompts.

"My mom would make tempura and miso soup every Saturday, kinda like today. Mainly because my dad would always get home from work earlier on Saturdays. I used to hate it because of the seaweed, but over time it became my favorite because of her." She paused, staring at the shrimp frying in the boiling oil. She groaned as she recalled the tasty meal. "Oh and then she would always serve mine with this delicious soba that my grandmother used to make." Tarrlok smiled when he snuck glance at her, her eyes glazed over and her nearly watering mouth. "Spirits, I think that's the best tempura I've had. But maybe I'm being biased, I don't know. Sorry, I'm rambling,"

"No, no, don't be sorry." He turns the frying shrimp with the chopsticks in his hand. "Reminiscing is a good thing, although I do hope my cooking will do it justice." He nudges her with his elbow.

"By the way it smells, I can already tell you're an amazing cook." She pokes his bicep harder in mild revenge. Slightly flinching, he did not realize how strong she is, despite the notable muscles on her arms.

"You're making me blush, Korra," he smirks. But then he sees a hand creeping to the dish of cooked shrimp. He lightly smacks the hand away. "Not until we're at the table."

"But Tarrloooooook, I barely ate anything all day and I'm starving." She pouts, blue eyes growing bigger and bigger as she pleas. "You don't want your child to starve, do you?"

"Korra," he warns. That low voice of his turning slightly stern, similar to that of a school teacher. She sure did have those puppy eyes down to perfection.

"Pleaaaaaase?" Latching onto his arm, she lies her cheek against his deltoid, thinking she'll get through to him. Nobody could resist her puppy eyes. But he stands there unfazed. Was he used to this? She mildly wonders who in seven hells would make him immune to her puppy eyes. Korra is about to think that he won't give in, but then she hears and feels him resign his resolve with a sigh.

"Fine, only one." He yields, pointing the tips of the chopsticks vaguely to the dish of cooked tempura.

"Thank you!" She squeals. Her body heat is gone from his side and immediately she's biting into the fried shrimp with a crunch, groaning in pleasure. A smug smirk settles on his face and she's tempted to wipe it away. Finishing half of the shrimp, she places the other half in front of him in offering.

Pale blue eyes immediately lock with hers in curiosity, and cautiously leans forward.

"What? I'm not contagious," she says slightly offended. Perfectly white teeth sink into the shrimp, chewing the meat in suspicion. Korra rolled her eyes as she took the last bite, tossing the tail onto the dish.

"Now then, now that that's over, set the table up so we can eat soon, the rice is in the cooker." Although it's the last thing Korra wants to do, she acquiesces, wanting food to fill her stomach more than push his buttons any further. She has time to do that later anyways.

Placing a set of bowls, one larger than the other, a pair of chopsticks and a duck spoon for each of them at the table, she reaches for an empty bowl and scoops rice into the ceramic dish. She watches him curiously from the corner of her eyes. Moving about the kitchen, Korra pours them a glass of water, setting them onto the table, only to sit collectively at one of the chairs. Chin in her hands, patiently waiting. Observing.

It's nothing she ever imagined with Tarrlok. When she first met him at the orphanage, she suspected he had a butler or maid tending to his needs at every call. But now that she knows that it's just him in this huge, luxurious house he has, it's a lonely lifestyle for sure.

Lonely. It really is a strange thought that never crossed her mind. Thinking that Tarrlok could even feel that way is a thought that doesn't come easily. From the little she knows of him, she can't for the life of her take the image of his smirking, charismatic face out of her mind and think that he's a lonesome man in his late thirties. Maybe he's like her. Maybe he carefully guards that loneliness. Maybe he puts a mask on for everybody.

Korra's eyes trail back to his tall form, watching as he turns off the stove and makes his way to her. A steaming plate and pot are grasped in his hold. Her thoughts are broken when the scent of miso soup and tempura are placed between the two of them.

"And here we are," He says, smirking in satisfaction at his creation.

Grabbing her bowl, he fills it with rice and shrimp tempura, spooning the soup into her smaller bowl as he does the same to his own.

The only sound comes from the ticking clock hung on the wall. It's too quiet for her. She's used to the other kids fighting for the pieces of food the caretakers made them, even if the food was disgusting.

They eat in silence and Korra nearly groans again at how delectable the food is. Her brows furrow in pleasure. If someone were to ask about Tarrlok's expertise in cooking, she would rave about the food he makes with such finesse. This is the only dish she had the pleasure in tasting so far, but the shrimp and soup in her mouth practically gives her tastebuds an orgasm, something that does not go unnoticed by the man in front of her.

"This is so delicious, Tarrlok." She says over the mouthful of food.

"Well, I can't say that the praise does not boast my pride, because then I'd be lying." He tries to conceal the amused smile behind his spoon, but a laugh escapes, sipping at the steaming soup.

"I'm serious, how did you learn to cook like this, you're like a wizard." She smirks as she caught the beginnings of pink tinging his cheeks. Never had she thought a grown man could blush, but she was proven wrong.

"I don't know how I feel about being called a wizard," he looks away, recalling the times women called him anything but his name. Did any of them call him a wizard? Did she only say that to poke fun at his age? Was he already greying?

"Tarrlok," she pulls him out of his reverie with a smile, clearly knowing what he was thinking.

"Ah, right, well I learned on my own. I wouldn't allow myself to eat out everyday and grow flabby with whale blubber." He said dismissively, biting into the shrimp. A snort followed, as did the boisterous laugh from the girl opposite of him.

"I've never heard of someone call fat as whale blubber," she threw her head back in laughter.

"Really? Hmm," he swore he heard it from some young fellow. Despite her unladylike manner, it's a good picture to witness her laughing. He wanted to make her feel at home, feel loved, and he would do anything for her to feel that way. Even if it is through playful banter at his expense.

"Even if you filled yourself with so-called whale blubber, you don't need to worry." She stuffed her mouth with rice.

"Are you saying that I have a nice body?" He said. Straight white teeth peeked through the smirk as his voice was laced with amusement.

"No! I mean, it's not terrible," she grumbled, some food falling out of her mouth. "What I meant was that you seem like the type to keep yourself busy, like working out or getting in touch with your hobbies when you don't have anything else to do." Korra shrugged.

"In that case, you're correct." He confirmed, lids lowering to watch her eat in mild fascination.

"See?" She smiled.

There's a lapse of silence again and at the moment it's surprisingly comforting. Not awkward, for once, since the day started.

Clearing his throat, he breaks the muteness.

"So, I know I said it's going to be a long night," He starts, slowly stirring his soup. "But we do need to settle some things."

"Like?" A skeptical gleam in her eyes form.

"Like… going to school," he says gently, meeting her blue eyes as she takes a bite of fried shrimp with a crunch. Tarrlok slightly winces.

"Oh of course, I can't miss that for the world." She grunts through a mouthful of food. Has she always been this undignified? In a weird sort of way, he finds this endearing.

"I already enrolled you in Republic City High." He said bluntly.

"Great." Her brow twitched, sipping at her soup.

"Hey now, look at the bright side, at least it's your senior year. Isn't that what high schoolers look forward to?" He tried.

"Yeah, but I don't know anyone. What good is my last year of high school without any friends?" She did have a point. But that aside Tarrlok knew she would make friends. She's an easily lovable girl.

"Korra, you'll make friends." He said matter of factly.

"How can you be so sure?" She mumbles skeptically.

"I'm not, but I have a feeling you will and that same feeling has an inkling that you'll like it there."

"Me. Liking school." That incredulous look on her face makes him want to chuckle. He hides it well with a straight face.

"Yes," he confirms.

"Really?" She says, clearly doubting him.

"Yes," he repeats, his already nice voice laced with a teasing tone.

"Hmm," She paused, humming to herself in thought. Korra can tell he was watching her curiously by the way he ate his food slowly. Stuffing her mouth again, she continued, "Are you sure you got the right Korra?"

"Of course I did. The one with bright blue eyes and sharp tongue." He teases.

"Gee, you really know how to flatter a girl," Korra deadpans, but the glint in her luminous eyes tell a different story. She bites into the last of her tempura and sits back, stirring at the stagnant soup. Not wanting to delve into it further, she changes the topic. "Anyway, when do I start school?"

"Wednesday." He notes with the slightest of smirks that she does not go further.

"They start in the middle of the week?" She says in disbelief.

"Yes, I assumed all schools started then."

"That's odd," She gulps the last of the soup.

"Why is it odd? Did your old school not start on Wednesday?" He took a drink of water.

"No! They started on a Monday like any normal school should." The girl in front of him giggles, a hand placed over her stomach.

"In any case, you have a few more days to get adjusted before meeting new people."

"Right,"

"It won't be so bad, Korra." He tries to sooth her, but she's adamant.

"You don't know that," She crosses her arms over her chest, stretching her legs as they lightly touch his.

"Yes, I do know." He sighed.

"What if I get mauled by a bear or I get stung by a hive of bees? Or I get picked on by the 'popular girl'? Or people hate me?" Her eyes widen, feigning fright. Just the thought of it gives her chills, but she laughs it off, playing it cool. She doesn't want him to know that she's actually serious, yet. The latter she means.

"That's ridiculous, Korra. You're just overthinking this," He laughs as she glares at him, the venom in it stripped away by the smile slowly curving her lips. "Trust me when I say I know, I was in your place before." He finishes his food, sitting back in his chair and regards her inquisitively.

"You were an orphan?" The smile disappears and her ears perk up like a puppy.

"No, just… complicated family issues." He sighs, a smile in place. The smile didn't reach his eyes and the way he said it turned the playful atmosphere to something serious almost immediately. The sigh she heard held a great deal of depth behind it and, although she did not want to trigger anything within him, she was curious. She wonders if it is worth asking.

"You know," she says slowly, gently. "We're technically family now, soooooo care to tell me more?" She smiled sheepishly, already knowing the result nonetheless.

"Maybe some other time." He says with all seriousness.

Great. She knew it would turn out that way, but she still hoped he would tell her. It was a good day so far, a great evening since she was served her favorite food, unintentionally. Until she had to open her big mouth. She should've known something happened to him in the past, everyone has a past that they wouldn't want to talk about.

Both of them don't say a word. It's quiet and the silence makes her muscles tense, especially with the way he practically glares at the empty bowl in front of him. That is, until Korra sips at her water and his eyes trail to the sparkling liquid.

She knows she shouldn't say anything more, but she understands the feeling of being alone, being hurt, being angry. Abruptly, Korra realizes that she's looking at him the way people do to her. Instead of sitting around in the foreboding silence, she stands from her seat and grabs ahold of the bowls and utensils in both hands, clearing her throat in the process.

"The thing you said earlier," She breathed reluctantly. His gaze locks with hers in an intensity that was not there before. Although it does not hold the anger she thought he would feel, she can't place her finger on the intense look in his eye. "That I could talk to you if I ever need to, that doesn't just apply to me. It goes both ways, if you ever do want to talk, that is." She says softly.

Not waiting for his response, she turns her back to him as she places the bowls into the sink, running hot water over them. The piercing gaze she senses towards her head makes a red flush color her cheeks as she washes the dishes. Whether it is from vexation or wonderment or something else entirely, Korra does not know. Some part of her doesn't want to know.

Later that night, Korra retired to her chambers, lying in bed with the covers thrown about. It's too hot for the covers and she's tempted to take off her shirt and shorts, but she doesn't know if Tarrlok will walk in. He seems like the type, anyway. But the way his mood shifted she wonders if he'll keep the distance he created.

She feels stuffy, as though she's suffocating. Huffing in irritation, she strips herself of the baggy shirt that twisted around her abdomen to let some air cool her heated body. It's no use if it keeps strangling her, she reasons. She can't sleep, the cicadas chirping loudly in the background numbs her mind.

The silence from dinner continued throughout the night and it made Korra uneasy. Not in a totally bad way, but she already had too many things on her mind that she did not want to start off with a bad temper or end up crying in front of him. It's not that she doesn't want to get close to him. It really is the opposite, the mood shifted so suddenly that she didn't know how to approach the situation, not wanting him to mildly glare at her back when she's not looking. That is, until he takes her up on her offer.

Korra dealt with kids with similar issues, but they are kids. Tarrlok is a grown man. A man capable of handling his own problems, and she did not want to impede on that.

But knowing that he has family issues, somewhat calms her nerves. When she says it aloud, it really does sound horrible. Horrible that she's comforted by the thought of him having a tragic past, just like hers, whatever it may be. But it does anyway.

Korra turned with another huff. This isn't abnormal for her. Not being able to sleep, that is. Although her mind reels at the new atmosphere - the new surroundings, the new materialistic trinkets decorating her room, her new father - she feels like a stranger in an even stranger home. It does not mask her own past and how much she wants to take it all back.

Tears begin to well up in her eyes, threatening to spill.

She missed her parents. Her real ones. Senna and Tonraq.

She missed the way they both made her laugh. Missed the way she could easily fall asleep in their laps and they'd carry her to her bed, tucking her in securely. She missed the mirth on their faces when she did something funny. Or the warmth she felt when they said, We love you. The way it happened all of a sudden, it shouldn't have happened. It wouldn't have happened if she did not insist on going with them. If she wasn't such a brat and headstrong, like she still is now, they would still be alive. She hated herself for it.

Every night when the sun fell and the moon rose, it's all the same. Whether she's lying in her lumpy bed at the orphanage or in this new plush one at Tarrlok's grandiose mansion, it does not change.

The caretakers would always whisper and complain behind her back, thinking she was asleep, that she's a crybaby. That she barely eats her food, picking at the undercooked pieces of meat in hidden disgust. That she was a stubborn brat, wanting to lay in bed for hours rather than go out and have a social life like the other kids. She hated the feeling of being a disappointment, of being unwanted, being thought of as something that takes up space. A lifeless lump on an even lumpier bed.

She just wanted them back. The warm tears fall in thin streaks without her permission. Korra sniffles, staring at the refilled bottle of pills at her bedside table.

Even if she took them, the feeling will only return the next night. What use is it if she's still going to feel the pain, if she's still going to disassociate. Closing her eyes, Korra willed herself to go to sleep. Focusing on her breathing, she takes long, deep intakes of air. The sound of cicadas continuously chirping echo in her ears. Eventually the tears stop and she finally succumbs to the darkness of slumber.