A/N: Written after episode 5.

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02. Stare
Mako/Korra, Asami

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The first time Bolin ever skips practice is the morning after he catches her and Mako kissing. By the time she shows up, punctually late, Mako's the only one there, meditating. Korra is bleary-eyed and sleepy still, and she pauses by the open door, her brain catching up.

"Where's Bolin?" she blurts out, instead of 'good morning'. Mako doesn't open his eyes, and maintains a straight posture despite the confusion on her voice.

"He went out shopping."

"Oh."

Mako doesn't answer – not that there's much to say – so Korra stays put into place, staring around the room. If Bolin were here, then she knows what they'd be doing—passing the weighted balls and timing one another; but Bolin isn't here and this feels all weird. It's not because there's just one person besides her, no, because she's practiced with just Bolin, when Mako's out with Asami, but … It's weird. It's weird because Mako and she don't have the kind of affinity she has with his brother. Bolin is a pal and awesome (although she's kind of broken his heart), while Mako is aloof and quiet. He keeps these walls around him – Korra knows because he's seen him without them, briefly, seconds before she grabbed him by the lapels of her jacket and—

"Are you going to stand around all day or are you going to practice?" he asks her, looking casual despite the brief annoyance on his voice. Korra makes a rude gesture at him, because he can't see her, and strides off to the weights.

She doesn't know why she's feeling so self-conscious. The three of them have agreed to remain friends, despite everything. Korra smirks bitterly at the floor; it's never really that easy. She can pretend Bolin doesn't like her, just like she can pretend she's never kissed Mako (and that he's never kissed back), but it's not going to help. Shit. She lets her head hang and sits on the floor, deciding to mimic him; she's not in the mood for much. It's a little too early for her to have the energy to run around bending, but she doesn't have an excuse not to, so—meditating it is.

She sits down on the floor, a few feet away from him (the required safety distance), and closes her eyes, replays her fire-bending exercises. Breathe in, breathe out; breathe in—

"Hello!"

—shit. Korra tenses up and cracks one eye open to find Asami walking through the room. She looks so out of place in here, like a rose in a prairie. Korra wonders what that makes her, then. She has a bag on her hand, and when she stops, exactly between the two, not taking sides, she smiles.

"Sorry if I'm interrupting anything," Asami says, and Korra tries her best to dislike her for barging inside their gym, but she finds that she can't, "I thought I'd drop by, bring you two some snacks!"

How is this girl even real? Korra doesn't know.

"Oh, um," she says, when she notices Asami's set her eyes on her, "thanks, but I'm fine. I probably shouldn't eat right before training." Korra does her best not to sound too dismissive of the other girl's good-nature.

"How about you, honey?"

Oh, spirits, Korra thinks, and closes her eyes again, thinking about the sunrise and the sunset, trying to filter out the conversation between Mako and Asami. Where she's sitting, she can feel the warmth of the morning sunlight hitting her across the shoulders, however slight is it, so she drives hard and focuses on heat and blood and on how it pulsed when she pressed her mouth against his. Wait. No. That wasn't it at all. She grits her teeth in frustration, feels her blunt nails dig into the palm of her hands, and pretends not to hear Mako's explanation of the post-classic fire-bending stances. He's a good teacher, she'll give him that—even if his bending leaves a lot to desire out on the actual battlefield. He sums down the footing, how quick they need to be in the arena, and then demonstrates.

She opens her eyes to stare at him, just to see him bending. When Mako bends, he is less controlling of himself, less tight. She likes watching him giving himself a little more breathing space, even if he remains taut and stern. Mako does not disappoint; he spins and falls on the ball of his foot, using the fire's momentum to keep his balance, and then extends his hands to push a long lick of flame in front of him. Korra glances at Asami briefly: she is attentive and interested in the mechanics of bending, and Korra feels a small swab of pity rush across when she thinks about what all the non-bender people are missing out on. She flicks that thought away quickly, however, and redirects her eyes towards Mako, who is executing a breath-taking rendition of a classic foot-hand shot. He falls with one shoulder, but in the next second he's rolling and lifting himself with one hand. The other one erupts in the direction of the fireproof targets.

It makes her want to get up and join him. She's never liked watching other people bend for the sole reason that she will always want to join them, spar against them, figure out their flaws, exploit them—she'll always want to win. But she can't. Asami's presence makes her uncomfortable, and Korra doesn't think her stupid enough not to notice the latent tension between the two of them (because even though they've promised to stay just friend she knows that's not going to work as smoothly as she'd like).

Mako finishes soon after Korra's inner turmoil. He runs a hand through his hair, gives Asami a tentative smile; it hides a question (did she like it? was she impressed? was it worth it?). Korra wants to assuage him, tell him that he was fine despite the flimsy balance of his torso, and she's biting on the inside of her cheek to stop herself from interacting with him, because it was clear that that whole thing was for Asami alone, when their eyes meet. She reacts in record time, averting hers immediately, hating herself the next second for being such a coward, hating herself for blushing, hating herself for closing her eyes once more and immersing into ignoring-Mako-mode.

Mako says something a few seconds later, but it's too soft, she can't hear it. Not like she wants to, either way.

"I ran into Bolin at the market, actually," Asami says, her higher voice easily carried into Korra's ears. "He looked a little lost; I helped him find the best asparagus in town. Speaking of which—is our lunch still on?" Then, lower, but still clear: "I was thinking we could invite Bolin and Korra along," she adds, a little concerned. Korra wants to scream at how hard it is to dislike her.

Mako pauses, and she can almost feel the weight of his yellow-eyed gaze on her closed expression. Her stomach tightens, like a ball of nervous yarn, but then he murmurs something and Asami makes a small sound, like she's understood that two and two are four.

When they leave, they don't invite her to come along. She wouldn't want to go, anyway.

She spends the rest of the morning throwing ice daggers at the targets, not giving a damn if it's against the rules or not.