It was easy to lose herself in it, to lose herself in the blue.

Korra stood in the sea, the water lapping at her waist, the element comforting and familiar and fresh. She stared at it deeply, absorbing the scent and the feel and the color and tuning out the rest of the world. She couldn't help it. She couldn't help but lose herself in the sea. It was mesmerizing and unknown and perfect.

The blues of home were deep and rich, but they weren't warm in any way. They were the cold, mean blues of the Water Tribes, of the South Pole, of the vicious ocean that could kill if you let it take you under. The ocean at home was cold and unwelcoming. It was icy. Dark.

Here was different. The blue was different.

It was aquamarine, teal, turquoise. Different.

Bright blues swirled together to make one, mixing in with bits of green in some sections. The color stretched across to the horizon, pulling her in with its want and desire and life. The water was warm. And it was blue. Sometimes there would be a huge patch of a single shade before it blended in with the rest, and she wanted to swim there, to touch the blue with her skin. She didn't understand why the ocean did that, why it split into separate hues. Maybe Mako would know more about it.

"Hey, Mako, why are there patches in the water?" she asked, her eyes still poised out. "…Mako?" She turned, her fingers skimming the top of the water as she moved. But she couldn't see him. …He'd been right there. She'd heard him. she'd felt him. Where was he? "Mako!"

No response.

A horrible twisting in her stomach made her hold her breath involuntarily, and the idea spread in her mind, thick and mean. Her heart pounded.

He was under the water.

He was drowning, dying.

But he'd been right there. Right there. He wasn't a child; he wasn't weak; she knew he could swim. Wouldn't she have heard him go under? Wasn't there supposed to be screaming or flailing or something before a person drowned? She hadn't been paying attention though. Not at all. She'd been in her world, lost in her own world.

Korra started bending before she started breathing. She pushed massive waves behind her as she leapt through the water, searching for him. Her eyes roved, catching every shadow, every floating piece of algae, but she kept telling herself that she'd already lost him. She'd lost him to the blue.

No.

Another effort pulled a section to her, revealing the top of Mako's head. She ran, and the sea splashed and foamed around her but she didn't care, she didn't. She nearly fell when she grabbed him by his bare shoulders, ripping his body up from the ocean.

He looked surprised to see her, his eyes wide and intense, though he did not look as surprised as she felt to see him conscious and whole and beautiful, his dark hair dripping down his forehead. He started to laugh.

Korra scowled. "Mako, what's your problem?"

He rubbed his eyes, still smiling. "What do you mean? I was just holding my breath underwater. Trying to get as good as you." He looked at her then, and smirked a little.

"Don't do that again, okay?"

"Wait, did you think… I can't believe it! After all this time, after all the pranks you and Bolin have pulled on me—I finally tricked you!" He smiled again, and usually that eased her anger, but not this time.

"That wasn't funny, Mako!" she yelled. She pushed him, hands pressed on his chest. He stumbled in the water, but easily regained his balance so he could shove her back. She tried to force him back again, but he'd grabbed onto her this time. They went back together, holding and pushing and falling into the shallows, the sandy ocean floor catching them easily and cradling their impact. They sat still, together. The waves were gentle.

Mako burst into laughter, and Korra couldn't help herself. She started to laugh too.

His hands lingered on her waist, and she sat, straddling his lap, staring down as he looked up. Their foreheads were pressed together. Closer. Korra's knees dug into the wet, grating sand. Mako was happy and bright and there, right there, just like he'd always been. There was sand in his hair. She touched his face. There. Another wave crashed against them, and he held her tight. But her expression grew serious again as she remembered those terrifying moments when he wasn't there.

"You really scared me, Mako," she said softly, her voice barely heard over the sounds of the sea. He seemed to feel her fear then, residual but real.

"I'm sorry."

"I've already almost lost you so many times," she continued. "I can't… I won't lose you again."

His kiss then was slow and steady, like the sea. His lips were on hers, hot and perfect, and his fingers slowly moving up the back of her neck, knotting themselves in her wet hair. Her head tilted as she pressed herself harder against him, her mouth tasting his.

She couldn't… she wouldn't…

Her tongue moved without hesitation, lining his bottom lip, tasting the ocean's salt that still clung to him, tasting Mako. His mouth opened automatically, letting her tongue enter. He pulled her closer, sucking and drinking and breathing her in. She felt as if they couldn't possibly be nearer, but she wanted it. She wanted skin on skin, breath to breath. She wanted him because the fear was still there, deep down.

She could still lose him.

Mako was the one who ended the kiss, biting at her lip as he moved away.

"You won't," he said matter-of-factly. And for some reason, those burning words were all she needed. She leaned in again, kissing him hard and fierce, pushing him back into the sand, and he embraced her. They fit together perfectly.

The tide rolled over them, and they were lost.

Lost in each other.

Lost in the blue.

x.x.x.x

x.x.x.x

a/n: LO-FUCKING-L. COMBINING REQUESTED COLORS BECAUSE I'M A BITCH. THEY'RE ALL SO SIMILAR, GUYS. ALSO. WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS. I CAN'T EVEN. I DON'T KNOW. OH WELL.