Thank you for all the reviews! :] I'm trying to alternate between Redemption and Burdens when it comes to updating, since I've returned to work.
Disclaimer: I do not own TLOK or any characters (besides Kaemon!Amon).
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Chapter Eleven: Temptation
Amon and Korra got to the first town before nightfall, thanks to the Avatar not bothering with anymore pit-stops. They found an inn easily and set Naga up in a stable, before sitting down to a silent dinner in the bar.
In a darkened corner, Amon felt less self-conscious about lowering the bottom of his mask to eat. The man still shifted uneasily, occasionally flicking his gaze to Korra; she didn't even bother to look away from her meal. It was as if the chicken-duck and rice on her plate had more importance than her living, breathing companion.
A few days ago, he would've approved of the wall between them. Now, a flustered, itching irritation blossomed in Amon's chest the longer she ignored him. He disliked this new sensation that was slowly consuming him. He wanted to talk to her, desired to hear her voice, wanted to tease her and see the expressions that lit across her face.
Instead, he sat across from Korra at a table, her eyes constantly cast down on her plate and an impassive expression on her face.
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After the tense dinner, Korra and Amon began their way upstairs and Amon was met with a surprise. It was a single room with a single bed.
"There's foreigners in town for a festival," Explained Korra as she trudged into the room, unsurprised, and dropped her rucksack on the bed. She didn't even look up at Amon as she rifled through her bag, pulling out modest pajamas; turning away from him, toward a conjoined room, she called over her shoulder, "I'll take the bed, you can have the floor. I'm going to take a bath. Get some rest, we're getting up early tomorrow."
Amon stood, in the doorway, eyes trailing over the room, trying to hold his indignant anger at bay. Her stoic tone, her lack of expressions, the way she assigned him to the floor like a mutt. He clenched his fists. This was her attempt at pushing him away, though. Just as he was trying to keep her at arm's length, if not further away. Still, he found it irritated him.
With no one to phrase his agitation to, or to take his frustrations out on, he grabbed the open door and slammed it shut behind him. Trying to get a handle on his emotions, Amon stormed to a corner, far from the bed and the bathroom, and sat down, cross-legged. Closing his eyes, breathing deep, he tried to shove all his thoughts, all his feelings, far, far, far away. Far away.
Just as his muscles were starting to ease, Amon's ears picked up the splash of the bath. He swallowed heavily, his imagination bringing to mind rivulets of water, streaming down through dark hair, down a slender neck, over soft sloping shoulders and gleaming down the curvature of a pair of... Amon's eyes snapped open, face flushed as he tried to stamp out the images that kissed his thoughts just before he stopped himself.
"Shit." Groaned the former revolutionary leader, pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes, hoping to squash out the alluring images that were now burned into his synapses. Another sound fluttered to his ears, beneath the splashing of Korra's - nude, sexy, naked- bath.
Below Amon, the sounds of the inn down below sputtered through the floorboards. Cheerful chattering, laughter, a catchy tune from a piano. He concentrated on the sounds, staring at the door to the bedroom. Without thinking as much as he tended to, the man stood and, quietly, exited the room.
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Korra peeked her head out of the bathroom, drying her hair with a provided towel; she wore a pair of baggy blue pants and pajama top, styled after traditional tops. Her blue eyes lazed across the room, expecting to see Amon curled up somewhere. She really didn't care if he decided to claim the bed for himself or if he had listened and found him a soft spot on the floor. Her heart jolted and the sleepiness the bath had instilled in her evaporated. He was gone.
"Amon, this isn't funny." Snarled Korra as she pulled on her boots. Adrenaline rushed through her veins and rage clenched at her stomach. This man was trying, very hard, to get his ass handed to him today. She half expected him to pop out from a shadow, like an expert ninja, just to surprise her. Every time her gaze flickered around the room, however, nothing made itself apparent from the darkened corners.
In moments, Korra was out of the door, her feet pounding on the stairs as she raced down to the inn's bar. Halfway down the stairs, her gaze pitched around the dining area, and her gait slowed. Amon sat in a darkened booth, slamming back a mug of amber-colored alcohol that sat before him. Beside the mug, a larger pitcher of beer sat, as if a giant were about to join the man.
Korra noticed a few eyes were on Amon; some women, eyeing him with a hungry gleam and some belligerently drunk men, summing up Amon's potential ferocity. As her feet finally hit the floor, Amon looked up. His glazed gaze caught Korra's annoyed look. He didn't stand, though, he didn't make his way across the room to apologize. No, he leered back at her. Korra mentaly groaned; the former leader of the anti-bending revolution was going to be an angry drunk, wasn't he?
The Avatar quickly crossed the room, "What do you think you're doing?"
"Fighting the dreaded Tsuchi Bird of the Midori mountain range." Good, he was still capable of articulating himself and he wasn't slurring. Perhaps Korra had found him just in time.
"Amon, you're not this stupid. We have a mission."
"You have a mission," Amon took another swig, draining his mug. As the glass smacked against the tabletop, he added, "I am just doing some community service."
Korra sighed and moved to take a seat across from him in the booth. He pointed slammed his booted feet onto the bench. The young woman pursed her lips and glared at Amon, who simply poured himself another mug of beer. Undeterred, the Avatar slipped into the seat beside him, wedging up against him so she could fit without hanging off.
"Ge'off, your ass is too big." Grumbled Amon, but he grudgingly squeezed against the wall so she could fit.
The Avatar affixed a glare to his face, but Amon was too engulfed in his drink, he didn't flinch. A verbal sting was required. Shifting her position, Korra leaned her elbows on the table, cupping her chin in a hand as she pointedly purred, "Better to be too big than too small, Amon. You probably wouldn't know, though."
Amon's gaze flicked to her face and, slowly, he lowered his mug to the table. It softly clacked against the tabletop and an excited tingle tore through Korra's spine; that was the calm before the storm. He leaned close to her, his hot breath playing across her cheek and his breath laced with alcohol, "What's that supposed to mean, Korra?"
"Well, I have seen you naked," Her gaze darted down, briefly, before trailing back up his body, catching his gaze, "What do you think it means?"
Amon clenched his jaw, trying to bite back a multitude of retorts. His body felt aflame, though, from her gaze lazily raking down his body. In his fogged mind, he could see himself grabbing her, pressing her against him, proving her how wrong her insinuation was. He wasn't so far gone to allow the imaginings to guide him.
"It means you didn't get a good enough look." Replied Amon and he tore his gaze from those lips, those damn lips that curled into that mischievous grin, a grin he wanted to see morphed into something more...sensual. Amon sat up straight and attempted to drown that thought with another gulp of beer.
Korra's laugh rang in his ears and his neglected hormones taunted him with pants, with groans, with screams. The young woman was completey unaware of Amon's slackening grip on his restraint as she teased, "Sounds like you wanna give me another look."
The silence beckoned the Avatar to turn her eyes to him and that amused twist on her lips faltered. Her eyes widened slightly, a flush burning across that deliciously dark skin, as she registered a darker fire in his eyes. It wasn't anger or hatred; it was something else, something that Korra wasn't sure she wanted to name. Her stomach somersaulted as Amon leaned close. His hand drifted up to her face, cupping her cheek in his palm. Korra instinctively pressed her cheek into his warmth.
He was barely a fraction of an inch from her lips, his breath tantalizingly hot, when he growled, "Don't tempt me."
Amon pulled away from her, beating a hasty retreat by hopping onto the table - the mug and pitcher rattling between his strategically placed feet - and onto the floor. He turned, snagged his mug of slopping beer, and began to walk - while backwards - toward the exit, "Get to bed, kid, I'll be back soon."
He spun on his foot and continued his way out, sloshing back the liquid as he marched through the threshold. The man slammed the glass down on a table near the door before disappearing into the night.
Left at the table, Korra stared after Amon, uncertain of what had just transpired. She took a deep breath, steadying the trembling nerves that raced under her skin. Her eyes trailed to the half full pitcher and, for a second, she debated on following her companion's example.
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When Amon returned, a little after midnight according to the moon, he attempted to sneak into the room quietly. The alcohol from the inn, and from bars he happened into, made him clumsy, though. He was somewhat surprised when the Avatar didn't stir from her sleep; her curves emphasized by the blanket she laid beneath. In the corner, where he had tried to meditate, a blanket and a pillow were set out. He made a bee-line for it, trying to not bitterly think of it as his 'doggy bed'.
Dropping to his rear, Amon pulled his boots off - almost knocking himself in the nose in the process - and flopped back onto the floor. Just as he settled into the blankets, he heard the springs of the bed shift. Korra rose, quietly padding near him, "Amon?"
He didn't answer, feigning sleep.
Korra's fist slammed into his chest, knocking the air from his lungs as pain throbbed across his sternum. Alcohol drenched synapses flared a second later, warning him of impending danger. Amon gasped, sitting up and doubling over, before he snarled and launched himself at Korra. Under his weight, he pinned her down and, once he could breath, he snapped, "What the hell was-"
A shaft of moonlight fell over Korra's face as she writhed against his hold. Even in his hazy mind, Amon grasped a quick inference, "Have you been crying?"
Her squirms paused and her face whipped away from the light, hiding in the shadows of the room. Korra tensed beneath him., "No. "
Guilt sobered Amon's drunken fog as a coldness clenched at his stomach. He could hear the congested signs in her voice and her terse reply just solidified his observation was spot on.
Once Amon's grip laxed on her, Korra slammed her arms up, pushing his body off of hers. He didn't fight back. Amon shifted into a crouching position as the Avatar scrambled to her feet. Wordlessly, she returned to her bed, noisly climbing in and dropping herself against the mattress.
The man didn't move. He debated laying with her in bed, curling up with her, kissing her neck and running his hands over her arms, down her sides. But, he didn't. Instead, Amon returned to his mat, curled up beneath the blankets, and tried ignore Korra's stifled sniffles, for her pride's sake.