Title:A Different Kind
Prompt:Figure
Pairings:Implied Makorra, very faint Borra
Disclaimer: I don't own this franchise, nor am I affiliated with Nick or LoK's creators.
She's hardly Bolin's usual type.
When he strides into the prep zone, Mako nearly pauses at the sight of her. She's all dark hair and warm skin—completely unlike the pale, delicate things Bo usually drags home. There's none of the flighty, flirty coyness about this one.
Her feet are braced at shoulder width in an unconscious, learned habit. Bender, his street sense notes instantly, a trained one. This is also outside Bolin's usual type. Most girls he brings around her non- or untrained benders—which makes a few probending tricks all the more impressive. As he bangs open his locker, Mako feels his eyes darting back to her.
Another cursory glance tells him more. Water bender, his mind specifies as he flicks a glance at her clothing—the fur boots and hair ornaments make it an easy guess. Her hair isn't primped and overbrushed. It's wild beneath its beading and unruly at her crown, where the bulk of it is gathered in a practical topknot. She doesn't seem like a product of the City. Years of experience with the inhabitants of every social strata of this town made him almost certain she was new to its bustling streets.
His eyes are drawn back to the curve of her waist as she fists her hands on her hips, her bold voice half-shouting something to Bolin in guileless excitement. She certainly isn't the soft shape that Bolin seems to prefer. Rather her midsection is all confident planes, the tuck of her hips is so trim it's almost angular. When he finds himself watching her belly shift as she laughs, Mako jerks himself out of his daze. He has literal minutes before his next match. His head should be full of drills and strategy—not thoughts of some random fangirl's figure.
Scowling at his own weakness, he hisses at Bolin to get her out of the locker room. Mako watches her expressive hands flit into a chain of gestures as she says something or other to him, but a movement from Hasook in his peripheral vision distracts him from her exact words. The third member of his squad is not a man he particularly likes—but there's no real reason for the heat that flares in his gut when he catches the man's eyes raking over Bolin's newest girl.
He knows his next comment comes out harsh when it makes Bolin flinch comically and rush to excuse his temperament. But it's enough to make the girl cross her arms over her generous chest, and effective in redirecting Hasook's attention from her anatomy. Close enough, Mako thinks. It's done what he'd hoped to accomplish—and his social skills have never been as great as Bo's. So rather than apologize for the small victory after so many annoyances, Mako buckles on his helmet and heads for the platform.
Besides, she's hardly Bo's type—there's no sense in getting invested.