"How'd you get this one?" Korra asked Mako, trailing a finger down a long, thin scar on his chest. They lay together on his bed, their clothes long forgotten and somewhere on the floor.
Looking down to the white line she traced, he paused for a moment as he tried to recall where that specific mark came from, "Ah. Back when I worked for the Triple Threats. One of the lieutenants was in a sour mood and insisted I had looked at him funny, managed to slash me with a blade before he was stopped."
Korra grunted, frowning at the story, "Why didn't you just stop him yourself?"
"I didn't want to start any trouble unless it was necessary. It was a rough time, and I couldn't take the chance."
It was difficult for her to understand that concept, always wanting to take out any threat right away. She couldn't fathom a reason not to fight back, but she had never been in situations like those Mako had grown up with.
Shivering when a rough finger grazed her stomach, she looked down at his hand, then back to him with a curious expression. "My turn," he answered the unspoken question, "how did you get this?"
She grinned, covering his hand with her own, "Early earth-bending practice. I didn't do a great job of dodging a bunch of rocks flung at me. Most just left bruises, but one didn't make full impact, just left a cut on my stomach."
"I see," he murmured, running his hands along her. She laid back and let him have his turn exploring her, smiling as he felt every scar that covered her body. They both had a rather large collection, and learning the stories behind each one would teach them more about one another than all the conversations in the world.
