"No, Korra, you gotta separate the yolks from the whites!"

"What is that even supposed to mean, you amoeba? You're wasting the egg! Just throw the whole thing in there!"

"The recipe doesn't call for that, crazy!"

"Well, the recipe is wasteful!"

Even if he was currently bickering with Korra, Mako could honestly say that he was having fun making a mess in his shabby little kitchen. Seeing Korra try her hand at a traditional Earth Kingdom dish was beyond hilarious, especially when the girl only had experience with Water Tribe cooking.

Korra grumbled to herself as she beat the egg whites; Water Tribe cooking generally usedeverything that was placed on the counter. She eyed the leftover eggshells and egg yolks disdainfully before dumping the frothy mixture in the bowl of dry ingredients.

"You're doing very well, Korra. Maybe if we have time, I can use the leftover egg to make some egg custard tarts."

Korra perked up immediately, "I love egg custard tarts! They're my favorite."

"Well, I'll keep that in mind for when your birthday comes around, now finish mixing the batter. We only have three hours left."

"Alright! Alright!" Korra took a plastic spatula and went to down on the mixture, gently combining the dry and wet ingredients. The thick batter blended to create a light lavender, the color of most confectionaries taro-flavored. Growing up in the Southern Water Tribe, it was very rare to have taro roots laying around the house, so on the rare occasion that someone did manage to rustle one up, you could bet on having the entire village over for dessert. She'd only had taro cake once in her life, when she was five and visiting her cousins living on Kyoshi Island, a small Earth Kingdom village close to the South Pole.

She had only remembered the strange purple color it had…and the fact that she liked the flavor (even if 18-year-old Korra couldn't quite remember the taste.) Korra's cousin Eska had mentioned that it was something that was really hard to make, but under Mako's (annoying, nagging, stupid) instructions, she couldn't have felt any more at home with her near nonexistent baking skills.

"So," Korra began, pouring the batter into the lined baking dish Mako had prepared for her, "your grandma taught you how to bake?"

He nodded, "My dad's family owns a small bakery in the lower ring of Ba Sing Se. They used to have a fruit cart, but nobody's willing to buy rotten fruit these days. I spent most of my time there baking with Grandma, so naturally, I picked up everything that she taught."

"That sounds like fun," Korra said wistfully, "the only thing I learned back home was how to fish."

"Fishing? You're kidding. How was that?"

Mako took the pan from Korra and dropped it onto the counter a few times. Korra curiously leaned over the counter to see what he was doing. She watched air bubbles surface and pop in the batter before continuing.

"Awful, imagine being a little kid and being stuck in a canoe for six hours," Korra leaned back to sit on her stool again; she kept talking as Mako flitted around the kitchen, making sure the settings on the oven and timer were correct before sliding the cake in, "sometimes, I thought I was gonna catch midnight madness or something. I mean, it was great spending time with my dad, but spirits, I would have been happier if we were playing fetch with Naga outside the house or something."

"Who's Naga?"

"My best friend," Korra replied breezily, "She's also my pet—"

"Oh," Mako interrupted, remembering an earlier conversation he had with Narook, "your polar bear dog. Narook told me about her."

"He did? What else did he say about me?"

"Nothing really," Mako said, turning a watchful eye to the stove, "Just your personality, your likes and dislikes, your pet…oh, and your ex-girlfriend."

"But that's everything." Korra deadpanned, flicking an eggshell at Mako.

"Huh…so it is," Mako said.

"Dork."

"Get new material, Korra."

"Whatever," she dismissed him with a wave, "Well, uncle told me quite a bit about you."

Now that was interesting. Mako attempted to hide his attentiveness behind a veil of indifference, "Oh? What'd he say?"

"Nothing really," Korra answered, her voice a perfect imitation of Mako's, "Just your personality, your likes and dislikes, your brother…oh, and the fact that you're a freaking nerd."

"You set that up!" Mako burst, striding over to Korra's side of the counter. Korra's grin was infectious.

"Well, you fell into that, cool guy," she replied, reaching up to ruffle Mako's messy locks. The teen ripped his head away from Korra's reach, scowling. Korra couldn't help but feel uneasy as Mako looked around the kitchen for something; when he paused on the sack of flour abandoned next to the windowsill, a devious smile began to curl onto his face.

Korra wasn't fast enough to avoid the fist of flour he chucked at her face.

Luckily for Korra, Mako wasn't fast enough to avoid her charging at him, hands full of leftover taro root powder. She tackled him to the ground, the pair of them disappearing in a cloud of flour and taro root powder.

Mako was sure that the neighbors could hear their shrieks of laughter, but in between watching Bolin's cake bake and keeping a flour-loaded Korra at bay, he couldn't really find it in himself to care. It was the most fun Mako's had since yesterday.

(And Korra was also responsible for yesterday's fun.)

When Bolin came home with Opal, he couldn't help but be suspicious as he saw Korra and Mako sitting closely together on the counter, both laughing while covered in flour and taro powder. The kitchen had been cleaned spotless, a state that it was rarely in whenever he and Mako were in the apartment together.

"What happened in here?" Opal asked.

"Nothing," Mako and Korra answered in unison. They stopped to stare at each other, their lips buttoned tightly as if there was a secret they were keeping; one skeptical brow raise from Opal sent them into a fit of laughter, which was very rare of Bolin's older brother.

'Come to think of it,' Bolin thought to himself, 'Mako hasn't been so uptight lately…Opal did mention that he and Korra started hanging out more often…'

The 17-year-old only pondered over these facts for a few more minutes before allowing himself to be totally sidetracked by the cake resting on the counter.

"Yes! Taro cake! Mako, you're the best!"

"Korra did the mixing. I only stuck it in the oven," Mako said, "so if you die from food poisoning or whatever, it was Korra's fault. Not mine."

"Oh, shut up."

"I'm sure it'll be fine," Bolin reassured, lightly bumping his fist against Korra's shoulder, "Thanks, guys."

"How can you sleep with Bo going off like a lawn mower back there?"

Mako shrugged indifferently, packing the remainder of Bolin's birthday cake into a plastic container for Korra, "You spend your entire life with this guy and you can sleep through anything."

Korra scoffed and returned to her sweeping, "You probably snore louder, that's why it doesn't bother you."

Mako rolled his eyes, ignoring her comment while heading over to the sink to start on the dishes. Bolin's birthday party had, for the most part, gone by successfully. The brothers had a handful of Bolin's close friends over, and though Mako typically disliked having any company over, he could honestly say that he had a good time. Bolin was happy, and Korra was there to keep him company.

Even now, as she swept around their small kitchen, Mako was still having fun. The two had established a dynamic that worked even outside of Narook's restaurant and Mako couldn't have been happier. He tried to tell Korra not to trouble herself, but quickly shut up after Korra cast him a withering glare. Mako found it rather fascinating, seeing Korra flit around his dusty kitchen, helping him clean. He was amazed at how natural Korra was at this, fitting into his life seamlessly.

It wasn't so long ago that they were constantly at each other's throats, and now—Mako was finding it more difficult to imagine his life without Korra in it.

His cheeks flared up at this admission.

'I'll just never say that out loud. Ever,' he told himself, returning to washing the dishes.

Korra was nearly done with sweeping. She didn't have much left to do since, thankfully, Bolin and Mako's other guests hadn't made that much of a mess in the first place. She was glad she came.

Korra knew she was going to enjoy herself at Bolin's birthday party. She quite liked Bolin's company—he was funny and nice; it was still surprising that Mako had for the most part raised Bolin single handedly—and having Mako there next to her, covered in flour and taro root powder, arguing that there was a difference in only using egg whites in a cake recipe (she still disagreed, butwhatever), made the day that much better.

Leaning the broom against the corner she had found it in, Korra strode over to the sink where Mako stood washing the dishes. Korra noticed Mako speaking to himself as he scrubbed vigorously at the old pots and pans. She grinned brightly when he stopped abruptly, suddenly noticing her presence. He tilted his head at her silently, questioning what was wrong. Korra shook her head and grabbed a tea towel, starting on drying the dishes. They worked for a few minutes in a comfortable silence before Korra spoke first.

"Thank you, Mako." she said quietly.

"Huh? For what?" he replied, genuinely confused by her gratitude, "Letting you help clean? It's not like I had a choice, with that look you were giving me."

She laughed softly, nudging Mako in the ribs, "No. For today, for yesterday—for everyday that you've given me. I haven't had this much fun for so long."

Mako had suspected that Korra was happy hanging out with him and his brother, but hearing her say it was completely different. It was better than any speculation, knowing that Korra was having fun; that she was actually happy. The corners of Mako's lips lifted as he finished washing his last dish. Turning off the faucet, he turned to lean against the counter, watching Korra work on the drying.

"I don't remember having this much for in a while either," he confessed lowly, "It's…nice."

"Yeah," Mako agreed, "It is."

Perhaps it was their proximity or maybe it was the fact that he had spent a great deal of time around her, but there was something there that charged the air between Mako and Korra. He didn't know if Korra was aware of it, but he sure as hell could feel it. It went right through him, surging from the crown of his head to the soles of his feet. Mako would often experience this sensation whenever Korra was with him; whenever she would flick fish broth at him at work, or when she would steal half of his noodles at lunch, or when she tackled him to the ground with every intention of making him eat flour and taro root powder.

It was warm, sometimes hot; it was for the most part pleasant.

It was exciting.

It was Mako's urge to laugh at Korra when she insisted that it didn't matter whether or not an entire egg was used in a family recipe. It was his natural reaction to roll his eyes hard into the back of his head when Korra would come into work thirty seconds late during Thursday's lunch rush. It was his need to hold her hand when she was in pain like last night.

One look in the countless shades of blue in Korra's eyes told him that she felt this strong bond forming between the two of him. She bit her lip.

"Mako, do you think it's possible to move on from someone you loved? Like, really really loved?"

He leaned back against the counter again, slowly processing her question.

Did he think she could move on from Asami? Absolutely. The Korra that Mako was getting to know was obviously strong. He could see it in the way she proudly carried herself at work and at school. He could hear it in the way she would laugh—a sound that he was starting to like more with every passing day. He could feel it in the way she was speaking now—with a clear quiet determination.

He answered her honestly.

"I think that if you're already using 'loved' instead of 'love,' you're already on your way."

Korra's head snapped up at his answer, eyes wide in realization. Did she still love Asami? It's been months, and while Korra was sure she wasn't head over heels like before, she couldn't say for certain whether or not she was still in love. But looking into Mako's warm amber eyes, she knew he was right: she was on her way to something better. Something bigger.

Her heart drummed soundly against her chest at the thought, surprising the 18-year-old one more, because this one revelation helped Korra disassociate Asami's name from the crippling pain that had paralyzed her for months. Now, Korra only wanted to be happy. The past few months being friends with Mako opened her eyes to that.

"I want…" she said slowly, reaching over to entwine her fingers with Mako's, "…I want to be happy, Mako."

Korra felt the tiniest bit happier when she felt him squeeze back, "Then you should do what makes you happy. It's not unreasonable to want that, Korra."

"Nice job cleaning, bro," Bolin commended, stretching out on their ancient, overstuffed sofa, "Cleanest I've seen the apartment in months."

"Oh whatever," Mako said, "I wouldn't have gotten the place this clean if it weren't for Korra."

"She stayed to help?" Bolin admitted to himself he wasn't completely surprised. He knew his older brother spent a lot of time with her.

"Yep."

Bolin stopped to reflect on the past few months. He remembered the first night Mako met Korra; he was so angry. Mako actually stayed up until two in the morning complaining to Bolin. He continued ranting even after Bolin had gone to sleep, curled up on the couch while his older brother paced the living room. Bolin had never seen Mako that wound up.

And now? Mako was going through the fridge and humming. Humming!

While Bolin was happy that Mako was so content with life, he couldn't help but to worry for his older brother, which was something Bolin rarely had to do. However, with the way Mako's been looking the past few weeks, Bolin couldn't help but to take notice. The humming, the little smiles that Mako would get at the mere mentioning of Korra's name, late night phone calls or texts, lunch dates-that-totally-weren't-but-kind-of-are-anyway…

Bolin knew these signs, mainly because he had done the same thing when he met Opal. The difference with this situation was that Opal hadn't just gotten out of a long term relationship with a girl.

He swallowed.

"Say, bro?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I ask you a question? Like, a serious question?"

Mako shut the fridge door, shooting Bolin a quizzical expression. Bolin looked a little nervous. What could he possibly want to ask? Mako couldn't recall that last time Bolin looked so…concerned. Running a hand through his coarse hair, Mako crossed the room and sat down next to her brother, ignoring the springs groaning under the added weight.

Bolin cleared his throat.

"Okay, so, I need you to be really honest with me because I've been seeing this for weeks and I just want to be sure. Do you promise to be honest with me?"

"Uh…sure?"

"Good! Good," Bolin paused. How could he ask this without embarrassing his brother?

'No, Mako always gets embarrassed, it's better to just spit it out,' he decided with finality.

"Mako, do you like Korra? As in like-like. Like girlfriend material like? Like how I like Opal or like how—"

"I got it, thanks." Mako interrupted.

"Well? Do you?"

He thought about it.

Did he like Korra? She was a great friend. She was fun and helpful and smart and Mako supposed those traits outweighed the fact that the girl was also batshit crazy. But did he like her the way Bolin suspected?

Flashbacks from yesterday filled Mako's memories, 'Mako, have you ever been in love before?'

He was positive he hadn't ever been, so how would he know if he was now? He just thought he was having a good time with his friend, but apparently that wasn't the case to Bolin. Could there be something more than what Mako was seeing? It would certainly explain his need to always be around the girl. It would also explain the rush of heat that would erupt in the pit of his stomach whenever their hands would touch or the constant thumping of his heart whenever they would spend minutes at a time not saying anything, only looking into each other's eyes before bursting out in laughter.

It would explain a lot of things, but did that necessarily mean what Bolin was thinking?

Mako couldn't answer that. Instead, he gave Bolin the best answer he could think of at the moment.

"I'm not sure."