Title: A Little Salt
Prompt: Pride
Pairings: Makorra
Disclaimer: I don't own this franchise, nor am I affiliated with Nick or LoK's creators.
He's like nothing she's ever seen.
It's difficult at first, correlating the fact that the faceless "Mako with the moxie" from the radio is right there. Forget that he's pinning her with a look that's far from welcoming. He's so close Korra can see his gear's scarred surfaces. There are blast marks on the flat of his chest panels and chips in the padding of his helm. He's real and he's every bit as cool as she imagined.
Down to the way he moves, he's unique. All the firebenders she's ever known were trained traditionally—their stances studied and flawless. Mako was different. He was never too long in one place. His weight was always rolling from his toe to heel, hands loose at his sides and his eyes scanning over everything. The effect of all these habits should have translated to a Mako who seemed jittery or shifty. It didn't. Rather he seemed cagey: restless with a sense of capability.
So she's smiling her best at him—with little effect—and she only lets it sting her pride a little when he walks off her good luck wish. Korra's used to people hanging on her words and clamoring for her blessing. The experience is humbling at worst and novel at best. And, in a corner of her mind that she's never explored, there's something fascinating about the fact that he doesn't idolize her.
This seed of adoration is only fed by watching him bend. She can almost feel it take root inside her chest; her heart surging with vicarious pride as he twists her favorite element into shapes she's never imagined. He's all hard lines and light feet—and Korra can't look away.
Later, when he's hardly looked twice at her, she doesn't mind. Instead she's absorbing every bit of expertise from Bolin that she can. With a quick one-two combination, Korra feels the earth slide from under her mind's touch, soaring with perfect accuracy into the net. She cheers and spins to catch Mako's reaction.
He's lounging against a beam with such effortlessness that Korra can feel her face heat up. Even without his armored uniform, there's a certain presence about him. Her eyes are on the subtle swells of muscle in his upper body—the ones that almost scream firebender—when he finally comments on her efforts at his sport. Not bad is hardly the worst critique she's heard, yet it weighs curiously more than the harshness of her many masters. But kind Bolin is all compliments and she finds a smile for him.
Anyway, she'll make Mako notice.