Song 1 - Both Hands - Ani DiFranco
The rest of the evening was a quiet one. Despite the howling blizzard outside, residents of the mayoral household settled into the cosy channels of preoccupation.
Tonraq would be back any minute.
Korra couldn't ignore the background noise, even from her bed; a cacophony of tense and eerie static. She watched the doorway with apprehension, any minute her mother would come step over the threshold with soup, homemade no doubt, and the last two nights were what? Forgotten?
As she waited she played with Asami's silken tendrils, absently weaving them over and under her fingertips as her mind riled. Asami herself had taken to hiding her face in the warmth of her chest, whether this was due to the nature of their company or her unnaturally cold nose Korra couldn't be sure. She was happy to be of service, half her brain dedicated to the act she knew well, and well liked. Still the lost look on her mother's face still lingered in her periphery.
Asami was still shuddering lightly in her arms, icy white skin warming flush and clear.
The last thing Korra wanted anyone to do was suffer, yet here she was twisting the knife into the people she loved best. Just because this was inevitable didn't mean she hadn't tried desperately avoid it. She'd made a point of curving and curating personalities around her family, her friends and Asami for over a decade until she could no longer, and they all came crashing hopelessly together.
However exposed she was now the reward was undeniable; stroking her cheek against her clavicle, rubbing her cold feet against Korra's toes, which in their tight and twisted position were beginning to get pins and needles.
Korra would rather die than relieve them.
"…I've made up the guest bedroom Katara, you're more than welcome to wait out the storm with us it's no trouble," Senna kept speaking even as she stepped into Korra's room, tray of soups and tea steaming and aloft. "You might want to give it a minute, it'll be scolding,"
Stiff and weak, Asami pushed herself away instinctively, slowly, reluctantly sitting back from Korra's lap the closer her mother came. She meant to thank her, to at least play the part of the respectful girl dating her daughter, with all the regard and fear the relationship deserved.
"Ah," instead she winced, before she finished the noise Korra knew exactly what had happened before Asami could deny. Her weak hand bowed back to her shoulder and Korra intercepted, her mother forgotten, she scooted forward, tenderly tugging layers of clothing from Asami's collar to spy the blooming blood on the bandage beneath.
"Katara your bag," she was already turning from the bed, guiding Asami out after her, hand snatched, eyes down as she took her to the bathroom and started washing her hands.
Much of Asami's possessions had been lost to the anonymous cab driver she'd torn into. In her coat she'd kept the painkillers, but her suitcase was still in the trunk, or more likely scattered in the tundra. It held her bandages, band aids, salves and all manner of personal items she dreaded to think of anyone finding. Her mother's diary for one.
She tried to ignore the pang of agony that thought gave her. The loss of her mother's last words was too insurmountable to conceive.
In a way, getting hypothermia, frightening the life out of Senna and requiring the need of a doctor inexplicably accompanied by her girlfriend was a stroke of good luck; because the good doctor had everything she needed when the wound started to weep.
"Is everything alright?" Asami glanced back guiltily at Senna in the doorway, continuing to wring her hands in that subtle anxious way. She'd seen Korra mimic her often enough to know exactly what she was feeling.
"No Mom it's okay,"
Katara delivered her satchel with a curious expression, watching the two fall into a peculiar dance. Asami shuffled out of her top layer, Korra's hoodie, and it was with care Korra tugged her shirt down over the bandage, regardless that others could see.
"How long has it been?"
"Bolin changed it before I left," Asami whispered blushing hotly, aware of prying eyes, even as she pointedly looked away she caught Senna's gaze in a mirror's reflection.
"He did a good job," Korra smirked assuredly, trying not to wince, peeling at a corner of it. "It already looks better," she added quietly.
"What is that?" Korra could tell from her mother's tone she hadn't mean to be so curt. None the less the idea of telling her formed a solid block in her throat as she rifled through Katara's bag.
She had already begun wiping the blood away when Asami reached back to squeeze her fingers.
"I thought you were keeping up with the news?" Korra tried not to sound bitter, key word here being tried. "Iroh found out about us…he didn't react well,"
"What-?"
"He shot her," Asami's grip tightened, and Korra swept her thumb in an arc over her palm, secretly, silently, telling her she was okay.
"Has he been caught?"
As Korra clenched her jaw and tried to formulate responses past the burgeoning headache, she didn't expect Asami to speak, let alone the answer she gave.
"Yes," another squeeze, "just after Korra left, and before I followed, they have him in custody,"
Asami almost expected a scolding, a you didn't tell me, which had been customary in her previous relationship for not immediately sharing groundbreaking news. Yet Korra carried on with her ministrations, slipping her hand away to rewash before applying salve. She was moved if only by how incredibly safe that silence felt, before Korra sniffled and said.
"That's good," and Asami could tell without looking the relief that was on her face now, brows drawn together and eyes closed as she swayed with it, tears forming there was no doubt.
"I'm divorcing him," she reached back again, this time interlocking and Korra couldn't help the wet laugh she gave as the mess of gel and antiseptics squished between their fingers. Swayed by the bravery Korra bowed forward and kissed the back of her head.
"Later," she hushed, prying her fingers back, Asami listened to the now familiar squeak of turning taps, "It's not going to remain sanitary if you keep doing that," her voice was at once loaded and light and Asami loved her for it.
"Sorry," Asami balked, snatching her own hand back smirking, not sorry at all and Korra knew it. She was drying her hands when she caught her mother still standing there, her gaze parrying between them both.
"Mom it's okay," Korra didn't know what to say, the swirl of emotions her mother was caught in new and utterly terrifying to witness.
"I'm fine," Korra insisted, though it was suddenly unbearable to continue looking at her. "Asami saved me I'm fine,"
"Saved you?" Even Asami flinched at that outburst.
"He was actually aiming for me," she was already taping down the new bandage, as good as new. Korra turned, folding her arms tight, the only comfort in the moment was Asami's hand, cooling, on the small of her back. She felt caught, off kilter, both in trouble and well within her right to scream.
Korra's bruised cheek throbbed under inspection, the cut on her lip, scabbed over and more irritating than ever. It was then she also remembered Asami's cheek had a bruise to match, that they were bound in joint scrutiny. Korra reflected on the layers upon layers of chaos she had wrought upon her home. She shouldn't have come.
I can't do this.
"This wasn't…" she began not knowing how to end the sentence, "We couldn't…"
"I adore your daughter Senna," Asami's hand was gripping her shirt now, a light tugging sensation that grounded her, "I promised I'd never let anything else happen to her…and I didn't,"
"You what?" Korra whispered, turning to catch either of their gazes but they seemed locked in a memory that she wasn't privy too. If Senna nodded it was imperceptible, but the change was radical, swiping at her tears she released the breath she seemed to be holding.
"The soup should be cool enough to eat now," with that Senna was gone, and Korra was left wondering what silent telepathic power her girlfriend over her mother.
She was still reeling from the encounter even after Asami had tugged her sweater back on, until she nudged her way back into her arms and used whatever shivering strength she had to crush her waist and tuck her head under her chin.
"What did you promise?" Korra crooned softly, tucking her own arms in place, squeezing, "When?"
"You know when," Asami murmured burrowing her ear into the hollow of Korra's throat, eyes closed, heart open, holding tight the way she did whenever she was reminded that she'd almost lost Korra once before. Senna used to do it too. "you know,"
"What is happening?" she mouthed, looking helplessly over her shoulder to the older woman at the doorway.
Katara could only smile back at her.
"Keep her warm," she admonished, stepping back, "Get that soup,"
Korra could only respond by rubbing her cheek atop Asami's head, lightheaded and off balance after her world shifted several degrees.
"I adore you too," she breathed, before they began the reluctant disentangling of limbs to move back into the safety of Korra's bed.
When Asami woke that night, the wind was still whistling in the eerie pitch dark outside. Korra lay still on her stomach beside her, arm prone over her hip and toes pressed seamlessly against her own. Even in sleep, determined to keep her warm.
Stiff and aching, Asami rose from the tangle, throwing a cursory look at the strange place in which she found herself.
It was a room frozen in time; Korra's stuffed animals perched on shelves, crayon drawings skirting the wallpaper near the ground, drawers still overstuffed with the clothes of a young water tribe child. Korra had been small for her age, Asami could tell from a faded photo, tape turned brown with neglect on the mantle. Nine candles in front of what looked like a seven year old version Korra. Gap toothed, dimpled smile illuminated by birthday-cake candle light.
In the far corner, in the deep dark, stood the stack of boxes from their move back from Republic City way back when. It had all meant to be temporary. Yet here Korra was, visiting home one of a handful of times in the last decade.
Asami remembered hearing about Korra's childhood here, and quietly marvelled at how it reflected her own. Korra's boldness was often misunderstood, and her kindness perceived as weakness by her classmates led by her hateful cousins. In the Water Tribe she grew up solitary and peerless. The only role models living a world away on an island, living a bliss she couldn't conceive of, let alone make for herself in the blight of a frigid land.
She fostered a love of martial arts as an outlet, and Asami was always grateful that she had. The odds of them ever meeting were astronomical; even in the same metropolis. Even smaller were the odds that their intense, bold personalities would meld perfectly to one another into something as unbreakable as it was.
A slice of moonlight lit Korra's back. Asami looked down at her long, slow breaths rising and falling. A welt of pride filled her as she stroked her fingers in the tangle of chestnut hair, tucking it behind an ear, tracing the spongey lobe, adoring her with touches just because she could.
She'd discovered more about her best friend at night than she could conceive of ever knowing. How she pouted, and those lips would twitch and brows quirk as though she was giving sass in her dreams. Those sighs with a pique as she repositioned herself. Her twisted features anxious amongst fitful nightmares; only softening at Asami's fingers on her skin.
This was the most surprising of Asami's discoveries; that Korra preened under the attention unconscious in a way she never did awake. Korra always keened when teased in this way, as though the emotions rose through her to voice to how happy she felt.
When no sound came; Asami watched her more intently, finding her blue eyes open a sliver, flitting occasionally as she folded through her thoughts like the pages of a devastating book.
She didn't stir even as Asami traced her jaw with her fingertips. Lost in the void, Asami could feel pain in her aura as though it were written in braille.
There was nothing she could say to salve the past few days, but in that moment she remained hopeful.
Her intention set and she followed the simple desire to climb atop her, chest to back and scoop her arms beneath her ribs, tucking her nose into the nape of her neck inhaling.
"Okay, you got me, you found me out," Korra chuckled voice husky, heartbreakingly hollow.
"You want to talk about it?"
"Didn't you hear?" Korra twisted from underneath her, sitting up propped against the headboard, as Asami took to kneeling in front of her. "We're saving all the talking for tomorrow." the snide comment lost its edge in her sore whisper.
"Then you need to sleep," Asami crooned, reaching up instinctively to stroke the bridge of Korra's nose; a soothing trick she knew would push her swiftly into it. She was gentle with the bruises she found there. Korra was so moved she could only close her eyes and absorb the tender care coupled with this unusual stinging.
"You picked this up from my parents?" she accused softly.
"You remember how bad the nights were,"
"So you all swapped notes on your incompetent ward?" Korra chagrinned.
"Your mom left me a care binder," Asami scooped her hair behind her ears, suddenly shy as she uncovered a secret of her own for once, "I promised…she knew that you'd need tea in the morning with sugar, lots of it, and I should not comment, and, to keep your sketchbooks where you could reach them so you could work through your pain…the soup I should buy you, the cookies you'd crave when you're really-"
"All that work for me to turn out like this," Korra seethed, the beginnings of a panic attack crawling over her flesh.
"Korra, honey look at me," bestowed with that sweet pet name Korra's lips started shaking, "We're still here, sleeping in the same bed; they want to listen." Asami framed her face in her palms. "You are loved. They love you."
Korra heaved a breath, throat tight, uncertainty strangling her. Bowing she pressed her face into Asami's chest, letting her long fingers card through her hair.
"Hypothermia," Korra breathed, weak. "We're sharing a bed because you almost froze to death,"
"Totally planned," Asami deadpanned, pecking her forehead with her lips. "Come on. You're awake now, let's go get that tea,"
She was already tugging earnestly on her fingers, making it clear that no, was not an answer she would accept.
Despite herself Korra felt her lips daring to smirk as she led her through her old house. She watched as Asami muddled as quietly as she could through an unfamiliar territory. She opened and closed cupboards searching in the kitchen, combing every crevice rather than ask Korra where her parents kept the tea.
She was taking care of her, silently, vigilantly, stubbornly, and it was all Korra could do but to bask in her glow.
The tea pot and cups ready on the counter, and the kettle starting to boil, she turned to wait for it facing Korra, concern lancing through her at the sight of misty eyes and falling tears.
Korra didn't wait to explain before clutching her elbows into place and kissing her cheek. Her breath had been taken from her, all that was left was to brace her forehead against Asami's temple, and feel her fingers cradling her jaw.
When the kettle started to whistle they sprung apart, Korra snapping off the hob and Asami snatching it from the flames.
She poured into the pot, steam billowing into her cheeks, already flushed and rosy.
Korra sniffled behind her, head still twirling from the high of just kissing her; paranoia settling upon her soul as she spared a glance to the doors and windows. What if her Mother had walked in? Her Father? They'd be in the cold again, with no way home in the blizzard that trapped them here.
"Hey," Asami had gotten closer, fingers slipping through hers as she tugged her to reality, "I love you too,"
Korra gave her a watery smile and let herself be enveloped. It was then she noticed her hoodie was coming up an inch or so short on Asami, only noticeable from the expanse of skin revealed as she raised her arms, and Korra could brace her warm hands over.
Her girlfriend seemed to relish the touch.
"I can't believe I've never been here before," Asami whispered, voice low and uneasy, wavering only as Korra's thumb arced over her navel.
"I don't come back here that often so…" Korra gazed down between them, shame swathing over her.
"We've never had a sleepover here?" Asami offered.
"You're not subtle,"
"I wasn't trying to be, it's clear you can't sleep, so let's not; you could share what you're feeling and we could work through it before you have to face them,"
"What's there to work through? It's them, it's their hangups!"
"If you believed that you wouldn't have kept this from them for so long. You're Korra, I'm going to do what I want and you better deal with it Korra- what are you afraid of?"
"Losing them forever," Korra snapped.
"Korra…you don't only have one shot… if tomorrow- we can keep trying-" Asami stammered around the obvious, but tried not to jab Korra with it. Asami hadn't had a second chance in the same way Korra had. Her parents were gone, their opinions on the matter sealed and void. Even though her mother had supported her, there was still a canyon of possibilities missed due to her untimely death.
Asami thought Korra had every opportunity to make this right; simply because her parents were still alive.
"I'm sorry I just, I know all this, I've thought of it over and over…The only way out is through…let's just go to bed, deal with this in the morning okay?"
Asami watched her bounce her gaze and scratch the back of her head. She didn't want to sleep with this hanging over them. She wanted Korra to experience a brief reprieve before the battle, and so blurted the first idea that came to mind.
"Or we can make a fort? And..I could…give you a makeover?"
Korra let out a burst of laughter, her earnest focus surprised her.
"Right here? Right now?" her voice was soft, and the sweetness of the pitch had her swaying just a little.
"Look - you avoided sleepovers all these years because you were in love with me, I get it, but as your best friend; I am offended,"
"I thought Opal was your best friend now?" Korra teased, deflecting.
"Offended Korra," Asami stepped away from her, retaining her clasp on her fingers, "Remember how I said we could've been doing this so much sooner?"
"Wh-, we're," Korra's cheeks puffed as she stammered, rendered truly speechless. "Okay," she found herself blanching, head suddenly hot and cold as she thought of what she'd missed out on.
Asami led her to her parents living room, and as she walked Korra knew the surveying glint in her eye. Her fingertips prone on her lips as she thought of the first steps of an ancient ritual.
"Fairy lights? Sheets?" she asked quietly, a conspiratorial smirk on her lips. She sensed Korra's reticence and assured her with a squeeze. "We'll take it down before they wake up,"
"There might be some in my room?"
"I'll go, you light the fire,"
Asami felt excitement fluttering in her chest as she hadn't in years. It kept her feet light as she darted back up the stairs. She found a knot of lights pouring from one of the Republic City boxes, tangled with other electronics.
"Korra," she admonished quietly; while it was in character, as an engineer she was appalled at the state of the tech. She yanked at it and whipped sheets from the wardrobe. Untangling them together would be therapeutic, she surmised, and the cassette player that came with it was only a bonus.
When she returned the fire was roaring and Korra was arranging the tea on the coffee table waiting for her. Heat filled her inside and out at the sight, Asami almost dropped her arms.
Korra's face dropped when she saw her.
"Oh," at the parcel of tangles in her grip, "crap," she reached to help instinctively, "Aha," Korra smiled, three quarters, clicking a button on the cable, illuminating her captivating eyes. Asami watched them fill with the light, an eclipse edged with cerulean and flecks of gold.
"Asami?" her heart stammered to hear her name passing through Korra's lips. Having caught her staring, and her smile grew into its full size. "Take this end,"
They started turning it together, lengthening an old intricate puzzle they shared in the solving. There was something of a slow, bandy dance to it, hands brushing, to and fro, push and pull, unravel and weave until they stood too far apart. Asami set the cassette player down to hook her end to a light fitting, and Korra did the same opposite her.
"Here," Asami gripped her shirt the first chance she got, tugging her into place in the couch beneath it before taking the sheets and throwing them above. She tucked them either side of the couches and table, and re-emerged with all the cushions she could grab. "It's nothing special but it'll do," she sat beside her admiring their work with a deprecating eye.
"Not all of us can hang silk sheets from our chandeliers," Korra teased, nudging her, catching Asami's blush and infamous ear-hair tuck, "it's special to me," she told her, clasping her hand, "thank you,"
Her lips found her temple, earnest, soft, an undercurrent of fright still making her shoulders tense.
"Drink," Asami urged soothingly, "I think there was a tape in that player," she leaned across her to take it.
"I doubt it even still works," Korra's smile continued even as she raised the cup to her lips.
Asami clicked a switch and the tape holder released, the title on the old tape's spine made her heart stop. She snapped it shut, eyes wide, cheeks howling red.
"What?" Korra asked.
"I've found something I shouldn't have,"
"What? Asami-"
The realisation dawned on Korra slowly, after she'd taken long moments staring back at her and watching Asami's blush grow down her neck, past sight and was finally amazed to see the tinge of rouge on emerging from her sleeves onto her hands.
"Oh God," Korra reached for it and Asami snatched it away.
"I want to listen to it!"
"Burn it!"
They spoke at the same time, and Asami clutched it to the plush chest of her hoodie, at once precious and reckless, almost throwing herself over the back of the couch to keep it from her.
"I can't believe you made me a mix tape," her eyes were wells of emerald and tears and Korra melted.
"Well," Korra breathed, unclenching the fist that held her heart private one finger at a time, "check the song list, let me know how embarrassed I should be,"
Asami launched herself into her lap and clutched her tight in thanks.
"Your shoulder!" Korra warned, promptly ignored as Asami sat back, blinking through tears, grinning madly as she snapped the tape out again. Reading Korra's writing as she fit the titles on the plastic between the moulded shapes of the cassette.
"How old were you when you made this?"
"Fifteen," Korra's voice was thick, looking down on the written Asami in heart parenthesis on the spine.
1 - Free Your Mind - En Vogue
2 - Don't Let Go (Love) - En Vogue
3 - Iris - Goo Goo Dolls
4 - When It Hurts So Bad - Ms Lauryn Hill
5 - Weakness in Me - Joan Armstrong
6 - Kiss Me - Sixpence None the Richer
7 - Sea of Love - Cat Power
"It's a bit of a mixed message," Asami teased only it came out as a sob. Korra sniffled to match, face turned up to slow the tears as they fell, remembering how it felt to be hopelessly in love with her best friend, and how alone she felt in it. In a moment of bravery she'd made the tape, yet found her fingers too weak to release it and put it in a birthday card for Asami. She wanted to tell her so many times; something always got in the way. In this case; Yasuko's death.
"Little Korra had a thing for Neo Soul," she whimpered, "I could never say the words so I tried to explain…" she fought a battle with her own tightening throat, "I loved you so much," aside from telling her she was in love with her, Asami hadn't known the length and breadth of those feelings until she'd uttered those strained words, "and it hurt sometimes, and even if you couldn't love me back…" she trailed off. Attempting now what had been impossible then, "I hoped you could be open to it,"
Her temple pulsed as she clenched her jaw, locked in the memory. Korra took the tape from her, and slipped it in the mouth of the player once again.
Inexplicable fondness flooded through her in the final moments before they both reached and hit play.
"FREE YOUR MIND"
She flinched and lowered the volume, smiling, crying. Asami laughed with her, swiping her tears with her thumbs, cupping her cheeks.
"You know what we get to do now that we couldn't before?"
"Wh-"
"Make out listening to your mixtape,"
Asami sprung forward without hesitation, and kissed Korra, as reflexive as breathing. Finally in the private cocoon they've made, Korra felt sweet physical relief to be able to sink into her and intertwine their arms tight. Korra lost herself in it, her lips drifting to her cheek, her jaw, tasting tears suckling on her skin and absorbing the litany of gasps she gave with each and every kiss.
With each song, Korra had gotten braver with her choices, and the memories of that bittersweet infatuation lit up her chest like a beacon in the night. Korra remembered study sessions listening to her cassettes while they worked side by side; stolen moments watching her friend to see if the beats of the songs matched the ire of her pulse.
What's it gonna be 'cause I can't pretend?
Don't you wanna be more than friends?
Hold me tight and don't let go.
Those lyrics were clearer than any how Korra had felt about their time together, and Asami wordlessly made a point to join their mouths and slip her hands beneath her ribs to hold her flush, ignoring the burn of her shoulder and losing it to the intensity of the moment. Legs twining with hers beneath. Following the instructions diligently and without protest.
And I don't want the world to see me
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am
Each song provoked a different style of touch that all revolve around a single minded purpose; repairing what had been lost between them. Korra had been holding her breath all this time, and it was clear to Asami just how long she'd been dying to tell her the truth. Of course she hadn't, and she was positively kicking herself for it. Still, the frightened lovesick girl she'd once been was reconciling with the woman who held her love in her arms, every ugly honest feeling laid bare. Accepted.
When it hurts so bad
Why's it feel so good?
When the music turns soulful, reflective of Korra's sorrow, Asami's kisses are gentler and apologetic. Her lips spongey, her hands wavering between bone-tight grip and soothing strokes under her clothes.
They're aware of potential imminent exposure, so they toe the line instead of crossing it. Not embracing such a time however feels like a crime in and of itself. Lost to the music, mouths hungry and insistent and at times, biting. Legs woven together like ribbons, careful not to grind too hard or too provocatively to a place of no return. Pillow forts have thin walls after all.
You make me stare, when I should not
Are you so strong or is all the weakness in me?
Asami reacted as though Korra had whispered the lyrics into her ear herself, the pain and guilt reflective of their first kiss, their first time, resistance worn to nothing until the gap closed between them. It awoke a greediness that she'd never experienced before Korra, fingers braced above the hem of Korra's pyjama pants, fingers tracing the tremor of her lower abdomen while her thigh pressed firmly now in the apex of Korra's.
She pried back, and Korra thinks for a moment it's to apologise for going too far, until she lingers above her. Emeralds eclipsed by dark pupils, tears now wicked away, replaced by her fierce gaze, probing and determined. The burn of arousal almost distracting enough to erase her decorum, almost, but not quite.
She knows this is as vulnerable as Korra will ever be, her skipping heart detectable on the surface of her skin, even under her breath breaking like waves in a tempest.
Her fingertips press teasingly into Korra's tensing abs; a question. Korra's eyes drop to her lips; permission.
The line they were toeing is crossed with a hand turning out of sight. Asami finds her clit already hard and slippery. Her fingers circle the nub with building pressure, and when Korra gasps she's sure to capture the sound before it can escape the tent. Korra's hand cups her ear and curls into the nape of her neck, keeping their mouths fused, for safety, for pleasure. Her nimble hand never wavering even as Korra's hips begin to flutter beneath her, and her legs cross over the small of her back, tucking her infinitely closer.
Asami finds it amazing still how strong a desire she has to stroke her digits lovingly over the silken wetness of Korra's entrance. To learn every ridge and valley as she opens for her, to map every nerve that has her jerk and twitch and whine with pleasure. Her shoulder ached with that piercing pain, but in the moment it sharpened her resolve, sinking two fingers inside, curling, listening to that piqued sigh, slowly cantering her hips between Korra's thighs, pressing her hand deeper inside, gentle, hard.
It's savouring and careful, yet Asami lets her lips free to taste that sweetness percolating on her throat. Korra covering her mouth with her hand to keep from crying out as her tongue and jaw suckled against her.
She knows from the clenching of her inner walls she's close, she knows it from her body spasming and shaking beneath her, she knows it in her own, reacting instinctively, pressing her lips to her ear and telling her for the hundredth time;
"I love you,"
That was all it took; a combination of the words, the act and those lips, still cool, dancing over the shell of her ear.
Korra's orgasm hit her like a freight train. Turning her face to nuzzle into Asami's hair as she chased it as long as it would come, each crashing unexpectedly into the next, with such force she would later be grateful that it left her incapable of any and all sounds.
Her thighs are still shaking around Asami's hips as she rears back to watch her, the last hitch, lingering in the moment before, admiring the shape of her tensing shoulders as every muscle thrums with it, the divot of her exquisite collarbones that Asami is reticent to lick, if only to keep watching her fall into oblivion from the tips of her fingers. Finally Korra rolls her hips for the last time, those curved fingers filling her and it has her back arching sharply, biting hard on her kiss-swollen lip, trembling and boneless, her only focus being on keeping her hands tucked under Asami's clothes.
Her body falls relaxed and plaint into the couch not long after, eyes closed, grip loose, smile growing slowly but surely across her lips.
Bit by bit those exquisite blues opened a sliver.
"We shouldn't have done that," there's hardly a breath of time before she captures Asami's mouth in another fierce kiss.
"Did you know that song is about an affair?" Asami questioned when they parted.
"I identified more with the guilt of loving someone I shouldn't…I didn't mean to…I wasn't-"
"Setting yourself up for it?" Asami teased. Before Korra can give a rebuttal her capacity to think is dialled down to zero, at the sensation of her girlfriends fingers slipping out of her, and sight of her bringing them to her pert lips and sucking her slickness away.
They're together, admiring each other in silence, until -
Kiss me, out of the bearded barley…
Asami peal of laughter has her laughing too. Blushing at the old familiar pop song that followed, as Asami traces her lips over Korra's jaw. Nipping at her sweet flavour and adoring how saccrine she'd been back then.
"It happened the way it happened," she whispered, kissing her pulse to punctuate her point, "and now we're here,"
Korra could only grin helplessly, her weight sinking past her limbs and planting her firmly into that sofa. Asami made a point to sway and turn them, singing softly along to the words she'd memorised as a teenager. Perhaps she'd made Korra suffer enough back then, but now watching her smile and giggle beneath her as the honeyed voice quietly instructed kiss me, over and over, and she obliged.
Gleeful tears found her way back to her again.
The last songs are joyful, hopeful, and it only makes Asami weep harder, and Korra can't keep it together either. They're locked in an echo chamber of emotions, content to trace her lips over Korra's just breathing her in as she listened to her former self lay her heart at their feet.
Do you remember
When we met?
That's the day
I knew you were my pet
I wanna tell you
How much
I love you
Long after the songs had ended, the night culminated in trading tender kisses reclined across the couch. Somewhere between making out like teenagers, and making up for lost time, they forgot about the promise they'd made before making the fort, folding limbs together instinctively and eyes falling shut in a dreamless and deep sleep.
They'd turned to relieve Asami's shoulder of her prop, and now Korra's ear found home over Asami's stomach. Her slender fingers woven fondly through her hair, Korra's nimble hips balanced between her thighs.
The sun is rising when Tonraq has to dig his way to his front door. Upon reaching the porch his boots snag a block of ice, lighter in weight and darker in colour than all the other's he'd seen today.
The blizzard had a habit of freezing anything and everything not nailed down or gifted with internal heating. Several cars were in this state, some boats, and a few unfortunate stray pets. He'd made it something of a mission to see that the townspeople had everything they needed for the coming storm. It was a welcome distraction from the very public family drama that his daughter had caused. His daughter whom he missed dearly, although her actions seemed incomprehensible to him. He'd fielded questions and accusations with a simple 'No Comment' and went on about his day as normal. He wasn't ready to have an opinion on it yet.
He needed sleep. He needed Senna.
"Odd," he hums to himself, toeing the block into porch light. Grabbing at it, unexpectedly the piece he takes extends an arms-length, before snapping off entirely.
A. Sato, reads the tag tied around the handle. He takes a moment to chip at the block, and an expensive, if incredibly damaged, suitcase reveals itself beneath the frost.
The Mayor unlocked his door and kicked the brick inside. Slamming the door against the howl of the wind and the burgeoning snow.
The case splits when it hits the base of the stairs, falling open like a cracked egg. He spies the papers and books, and takes a modicum of care to remove them. Two things enter his periphery that he would never have guessed before the previous morning.
The Sato Affair emblazoned on a Republic City newspaper, his daughter embracing a married heiress-socialite romantically on the cover, and the second, Korra draped over Asami in a pillow fort in his living room. He was sure he'd have noticed such a structure before if he weren't so exhausted.
The sounds of his thumping footsteps had them flinching, but not waking. Instead they curled into each other like cats, in a cacophony of sighs and grumbles as they repositioned themselves more comfortably. He watched as Asami stroked the bridge of Korra's nose, and soothed her back into slumber, apparently deep in sleep herself.
The look on her face was unfamiliar, yet unmistakeable. His daughter was smiling.
Song 2 - Antibellum - Vienna Tang
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