Previously posted on my tumblr (elementalavatars) for Makorra Week 2013.
Rated K+. Fluff/Angst. Back to a one-shot length rather than drabble. Woo!
She's restless. She glances around the renovated attic above the pro-bending arena, its windowed walls placing them strangely in the center of the storm. A black sky and dark clouds enshroud the city, rain viciously smattering against the glass, the usually peaceful waters crashing violently below them. It's beautiful and unsettling, and she feels the electricity of the storm, its power and urgency, rushing through her own veins.
The original plan for the day had been to explore the fringe of the city with the brothers—there were still so many places she hadn't been yet—but as soon as she reached the arena (and subsequently Bolin's new apartment), the sky had opened up and unleashed its torrent on the city. They had spent the day discussing pro-bending strategies Bolin could use when coaching his new team and arguing over which moves would be the most effective against different players. Now, more than four hours later, here she is, trapped inside, as the brothers banter about some silly ad playing on the radio.
"Guys, this is ridiculous, we've been cooped up in here all day. We've got to do something or I'll go crazy," she says, standing up from her place on the sofa, stretching her arms and back. Bolin laughs as he glances at the clock on the wall, animatedly stands up, and reaches for his coat.
"Well, I hate to disappoint you, but I have a fan meeting to get to. The ladies do love Bolin after all," he laughs as he pulls on his coat, Pabu scampering to his place on Bolin's shoulder.
"You're still going even though it's a mess outside? What if no one shows up?" Mako says from his outstretched position on the floor, ever the more practical of the two.
"Oh trust me bro, they'll be there." Bolin smiles and winks at his brother, as he turns for the door. "See you later, Korra. I'm sure you guys will find some way to make the most of my absence. Just stay away from my bed!"
"Bolin!"
The door slams shut, just as the pro-bending playbook Mako had been using as a headrest smacks against it. Bolin's laughter, still audible through the thin walls as he makes his way down the hall, sends a slight flush to Korra's cheeks. Mako's face shifts to a nice shade of tomato red, undoubtedly at the thought of the event in reference.
It had been a few months since their break-up when it happened. Her meeting with President Raiko had finished earlier than expected and, having nothing else to do, she decided to drop by Mako's apartment and see if he and Bolin would be up for doing anything that night.
Maybe it was because it was their first time alone or because Korra's self-control was still minimal at best (she blames it on the fact that he'd answered the door shirtless), but somehow, she found herself pressed into the sofa cushions, under the warmth of his weight. Mako was poised above Korra, their bodies already covered in a sheer sheen of sweat from the pleasurable lead up to this moment, when Bolin burst into the apartment, bag of dumplings in hand, Pabu scurrying about the floor beside him. There was no disguising what Bolin had just nearly witnessed as Mako scrambled to conceal an essentially naked Korra beneath him.
Two weeks later, neither had addressed the "almost friends-with-benefits" situation, but Bolin certainly enjoyed mentioning it whenever he wanted to throw an awkward wrench into the conversation.
Korra glances down at the man lying on the floor. Mako presses his hand to his temple before swinging himself up and resting his back against the foot of the couch, an exasperated sigh escaping his lips.
"Why does he always have to bring that up? It was one time and it isn't like we wanted him to walk in on us. And besides, I've already apologized to him. You think he could just let it go."
Korra laughs as she plops back down onto the sofa, her head close to his as she stretches across the length of the soft, umber cushions. Glancing at his already flushed face, she can't help but wonder if anything would be different between them now had Bolin walked in even fifteen minutes later, a warm, untested feeling settling in her chest. A bolt of lightning illuminates the room, followed seconds later by a rolling thunderous boom, snapping her out of her thoughts before he has the time to question her silence.
"Well, it's Bolin. At least he didn't tell anyone else. That would be…"
"Uncomfortable, to say the least." He glances sideways and his gaze locks with hers momentarily, the glow in his eyes gently prodding, silently posing too many questions at once.
Should we talk about what happened? What almost happened? Where does that leave us? What are we?
She pulls her gaze away, clears her throat, and watches the rain hitting the windows. These are questions for another day; questions she doesn't quite have answers to yet. A strained silence falls between them, only the harsh beating of water against glass filling the room.
She's about to stand and say something about heading back to Air Temple Island, just to escape the tension between them, when another bolt flashes through the room and the lights in the apartment flicker before covering them in darkness. She hears him sigh heavily beside her and she tilts her head toward the sound, the feeling of identifying him in the dark strangely comforting.
It's silly for the two of them to be sitting in the dark—creating and holding an illuminating flame is something they are both completely capable of doing—yet neither attempts to enlighten the room with their own singular, flickering light.
Her eyes adjust to the darkness and as she roles onto her side to prop her head up on her hand, she sees him shift from his spot on the ground. He turns to face her, one arm casually thrown across the sofa cushion, and her eyes lock on his golden ones, their glow like sunlight, heating her through and through.
Even in the dark she can make out his every feature: the strong, narrow slope of his nose; the sharp, pointed black eyebrows; the slightly parted, barely chapped lips she remembers too well. The cool air of his breath grazes her cheek, sending the slightest chill down her neck, and she wishes for his hands and lips to warm the cooled skin.
The centimeters between them shrink as he slowly, tentatively, leans in, her eyes never leaving his. Her body just barely tilts forward, but it brings her close enough to feel his breath on her lips, to inhale the sharp scent that is so purely him, to just barely remember the exact sensation of his mouth upon hers. Her eyes drift to a close, but the second they shut, the second she thinks a feather-light pressure grazes her lips, the room fills with the humming of electricity, dismissing the darkness behind her eyelids and exposing the private moment.
She pulls back, eyes wide, and scrambles to sit upright. He flounders from his position on the floor, eyes staring straight ahead, hands rigid at his sides, the hint of a blush dusting his cheeks. She's sure her own face is a shade darker as she stands and clears her throat.
"I should probably head back to the Air Temple. You know, because it's raining and… stuff." Her voice is too loud in the room and the words sound forced and hollow, but he adamantly nods his head in agreement, still staring at the wall across from him.
"Sounds good. Do you need me to see you out or—"
"I'm fine, no need to get up!" She crosses to the door, her gait strong and brazen. All she needs to do is open the door and she'll be free from the impending questions, free from needing to understand why she still loves him, free from the molten gaze that makes her ache at night…
Her hand stills on the knob and she glances back at him once more, her eyes tracing over him, looking disheveled and just as confused as she feels. Her heart thumps traitorously in her chest and she swallows hard, a surge of "what-ifs" running through her head. But she saves those "what-ifs" for another day and sighs heavily as she pulls the door open.
"Night, Mako."
"Goodnight, Korra."
It's better if they leave the idea of "them" in the dark for one more day.