takes place post-series. best one yet, i think, although i guess out of three that's not really saying much. but. whatever.
i own nothing - it all belongs to bryke.
day three: restless
Mako woke up on the floor.
That's not right, he thought groggily, pushing himself to his knees. I fell asleep in bed…
He straightened up and squinted in the dark; there was enough light coming into the room from the moon and the city for him to see Korra, tangled in the sheets, limbs splayed, taking up the entire bed – which explained how he had said goodbye to it and hello to the dust bunnies beneath it.
Rubbing his face, he smiled at the sight. It wasn't the first time she'd shoved him in her sleep, and he had the bruises to prove it. After watching her for a few more seconds and getting to his feet, however, he noticed that she hadn't stilled like she normally did. She was tossing and turning, flinging her arms and kicking her legs haphazardly. Still half-asleep, he didn't realize right away that she was having a nightmare.
His smile turned into a frown and he sat down on the edge of the mattress while Korra thrashed, letting out little whimpers, her breathing quick. He reached out for her wrists, took them both in one hand so she wouldn't hurt herself, and he used the other to shake her shoulder.
"Korra," he said. "Korra, come on, it's okay, wake up."
With a gasp, she bolted upright, her eyes snapping wide open, flailing against his grip: he released her and she turned away, patting the mattress, her eyes not quite adjusted yet.
"Mako?" she said, upon realizing she was (mostly) alone in the bed.
"I'm right here."
She threw herself toward the sound of his voice, buried herself into his chest as his arms came around her and hugged her tight. Her fingernails dug into his back, she clung to him so hard, and he could feel her shaking. Whatever the nightmare had been about, it was bad. Not bad enough for her to be in tears, thankfully, but bad enough that Korra wouldn't want to talk about it. Mako knew that from experience.
He also knew that when she fisted his hair and claimed his mouth with hers, breaking apart only to tug his thin undershirt over his head, pulling him down on top of her, there wouldn't be any more talking tonight.
