Sugar and Spice
Hey guys, this is a tiny little one shot (hopefully) that I just couldn't get out of my head ever since I started writing the second part of Storm. I started thinking about how Mako saw Asami and Korra when he first met them. First word that popped into my head when I thought of Asami was: sweet. And Korra, being Korra, it was: sassy. And somehow, it evolved into the fic that you will soon have before you- Sugar and Spice.
This probably takes place after Tarrlock's gala when Korra agreed to be part of the task force.
Disclaimer: Never owned, never will.
Just like his mother before him, Mako has always loved heat.
Whether it was in the middle of July, and the asphalt cast shimmering waves of heat; or his beloved fire flakes that his father indulged him in occasionally, which created the most intoxicating burn over his tongue until he couldn't taste his dinner, he had followed the stereotype of firebenders worldwide: They loved heat and spice and tea.
Until he met Asami, he had never been overly fond of sweet things, always letting Bolin finish the dessert that he'd only had a few bites of. But the Sato heir- there was something about her, a sweetness that went deeper than the superficial face that he had expected of someone of her social stature.
Perhaps the reason why he had agreed to go out with her was because she had the warm, glowing softness that he hadn't experienced since his mother had died. She hadn't looked at him in disgust at his shabby clothes, or disheveled appearance, even going as far as to sponsor them in the championship tournament. He could see himself with Asami, perhaps marrying her one day, even having a couple of kids, never having to worry about money again, or any surprises: A comfortable, stable, and constant life.
Yes, Asami Sato was cool, poised, exquisite, kind, and gentle.
Everything Korra was not.
That isn't true, Mako conceded, carelessly dragging a hand through the hair he had spent nearly ten minutes on, methodically working the product through the stubborn strands until they lay perfectly.
After Councilman Tarrlock's gala, Mako had made some vague excuse to Asami before rushing out after the airbending family, intent on talking some sense into Korra before the last ferry of the night left. Unfortunately, a slightly drunk and blubbering Bolin slowed him down some. The ferry was just pulling away when they arrived at the docks. Ikki and Jinora waved cheerfully at him and Meelo slobbered over his sisters' hair, making them shriek, as he called out something about his 'wiggly eyebrows'. Even Pema and Tenzin waved rather tiredly at the fabulous and out of breath bending brothers.
But Korra didn't turn from where she was stationed at the front of the boat, keeping her eyes fixated on Aang's memorial.
So now he was sitting on the window sill opposite from Korra's own tower, suit jacket unbuttoned and hanging off one shoulder, shoes kicked off somewhere near his bed.
He closed his eyes, tipping his head back and allowing it to clunk soundly against the wooden frame. He could still remember how his ears burned when he realized that the snarky and awestruck fan girl he had pegged her as was really the snarky, all-powerful Avatar.
Although Korra hadn't been showing up to practices of late, he remembered vividly the sparks that flew from her mouth and nearly ignited the rule book that he had dragged out at her first practice. And then when he had quizzed her on fouls and penalties and flags, she had nearly singed off his eyebrows as well. And then, as they had slowly adjusted to each other, her sweaty, glowing face as she finished a particularly hard move, her snoring as she simply collapsed on his and Bolin's worn couch, her allowing Meelo to pull on her wolf tail as she did Ikki and Jinora's own hair when she babysat them…
Despite Korra's upbringing in one of the coldest terrain's in the world, her fiery attitude never ceased to surprise Mako. She was always ruining his plans, diving into things without thinking.
She was impulsive, and headstrong, and defensive, and loyal, and unexpectedly shy and-
And beautiful.
So beautiful that when she was with him, it was only then that he could feel the warmth of the sun; the burn of the spices from the market never quite as vibrant unless she was eating with him, slurping noodles and getting food all over her face; her laugh making the wind chimes that hung in his kitchen sing and try and imitate such a gorgeous, stunning sound. And her smile-
Her smile, which made him feel as though instead of bending lightning, he had been struck by it, thousands and thousands of times in one single instant.
Mako sighed, staring at the single light that continued to burn without fail, lighting his own lamp next to his bed- Because across the bay, there was a teenage girl who was alone, and confused, and scared, whether she wanted to admit it or not. And she had to know that someone was there, that someone understood.
Mako got up carefully, hung up his suit in his closet, changing into his thread-bare undershirt and worn pants, wrapping his scarf around his neck. He couldn't force himself to go to bed yet though, lingering near the window.
Yes, Mako liked sugary things just fine.
But he couldn't imagine his life without spices.
Tada! Look it! I did it! Under a thousand words, and done in about three hours! I've gotten my Makorra back on! YES!
Please review if you're just as happy as I am, or even marginally less. They're always loved, but the people who write them are even more so. And if you have any prompts or ideas, please PM me or drop it in a review.
SNOGIRL.