Korra lay next to him, one arm draped across his torso, her head warm on his chest. Her hair had started to come undone from its bundle. He could smell whatever hairspray she'd used, floral and slightly astringent.
"I forgot how much I liked this, too," he said, and pushed one errant lock of hair behind her ear. He wasn't just saying that, either. There had been a lot of good times in between the bad.
"Mako," she said quietly, after a while, "are we broken?"
He turned and kissed her forehead. "Nah," he said. Truthfully, he'd wondered this himself, but he knew better than to say that. "We're just that special."
"What happens now?"
"I don't know."
They lay like that for a long time. At first Mako could hear other partiers outside on the lawn, but gradually the revelry faded, replaced by the sound of crickets and other night creatures. Korra's breathing slowed to a regular rhythm. It was nice, peaceful. For the first time, Mako thought he understood why Iroh and Asami had chosen to get married out in nature instead of back in the city.
When he opened his eyes again, it was light. Korra was gone. He was typically a light sleeper, but apparently the alcohol had put him under more deeply than usual. Mako was surprised to find himself mildly disappointed. He got up slowly, careful not to rush things, and made his way into the bathroom. He flipped on the light and winced. Then he looked in the mirror. Scrawled across the glass in lipstick read:
Drink water. My place, 7:30. Bring food.
The lipstick was the same shade Korra had been wearing the night before. Not that he'd had any doubts who left the message. Even if she hadn't been the only other person in the cabin, only Korra would tell him to come over with food.
Mako smiled. Maybe they couldn't relive the past. But perhaps, if they were careful, they could borrow just enough to make do in the present.