A/N: My goal was to post a chapter about every week or so. But with college kicking me in the butt already, I don't know how often I'll be able to post! I'm going to try my best to update at least around two week intervals. This chapter is extra long-approximately twice as long!-hopefully it'll hold you guys over until the next update. I didn't spend days agonizing over every little detail . . . the way I did in chapter 1. So I'm freaking out a bit. Being a perfectionist is a hard life, man.

To everyone who reviewed, thank you! And now, to the part you actually care about:

Chapter 2:

"Forgiveness"

Water rose up to greet me while in the air, and I flung my arms back, propelling myself forward across the blackness before me. The smell of brine hit my face with the little flicks of water. The salt stung the small lesions scratched into my face.

The closer I got to Air Temple island, the quieter Bolin's and Mako's shouts became until noise ceased echoing across the eerie darkness altogether, save for the slosh of water churning under the grip of bending.

I was heading towards one of the islet's cliffs, where I would be able to bend myself up and sneak into my room without encountering anybody, or being questioned about my face, which surely gave the impression of having fought with a cat owl and lost. Then the picture of an anxious Tenzin bloomed in my mind, pacing as he muttered to himself about my possible whereabouts. I reluctantly set course for the entrance. He would have to know I was back. At least one thing that night I should get right. Even if it was a little thing.

I deposited myself at the foot of the long stairs. With a flourish of my wrists, water rose up and out of the bay and hovered above my palm. I lazily shifted the water between my hands, before-with a hiss-I cast it around my face, remembering the healing techniques Sifu Katara had taught me. The water came away red, stained from my self-inflicted injuries. I flicked it into the bay. I had no idea what I looked like, but, I had to hope that had been enough to heal the shallow scratches.

Sluggishly, I made my way up the Air Temple steps, every step weighted with the ever increasing finality of my terminated friendship with the two brothers. It was nice having friends while it lasted, I lamented. My chest constricted, a knob forming in the back of my throat.

I had never really had friends. Growing up in the compound, purposefully isolated for the honing of my skills and for the protection of anonymity, there had never been a chance to make any. Lotus guard members, my mentors, my cousins, didn't really count. Katara was my friend, and I cared about my family, but, it wasn't the same. Being the Avatar made it hard-impossible, even-to connect with people my own age. Although Tenzin might have said it was my attitude that made it so.

My life had been so secluded up until this big, magical city, that there was so much to life I hadn't known I had been missing out on. Friends was one of these. I never realized how much I truly valued friendship, until I had all but caused it to vanish. Would Mako be honest enough to tell Asami? I wondered vaguely, cringing as an image of the disastrous meeting of lips flashed through my mind. There would go the loss of her good favor, too. Though she had never really grown on me, it was a depressing reality to know that someone so kind might soon hate me too. The full weight of what I had done against her crashed over me, and I felt regretful, regretful that I had not treated her with the proper kindness she had deserved. Mental images of a heart-broken Asami, closing the chapter on her relationship with Mako, did not bring me the usual sense of vicious satisfaction. It was replaced instead by self-reproach and sorrow.

I dug at the recesses of my heart, searching for some abhorrence against her. It would make me feel so much better to blame her, hate her, for all of this ever happening. I could have had Mako. And if I had had Mako, none of this would have ever happened.

Honestly, I tried to be angry with her. But in the end, she was still the victim. And I was still the villain.

Every palpitation of the heart was painful. All I really wanted was to be alone. If I had my way, I would have quietly snuck off into my room and holed myself up in there, and been done with it.

With a start I realized that I had already reached the top. I approached one of the Lotus guards stationed outside the entrance. "Have you seen Tenzin?" I asked bleakly.

He, however, wasn't startled by my appearance. That must have meant my face seemed fine, at least in the dim torchlight. "Tenzin and his family are eating dinner, m'lady." He gave me a salute.

Dinner? I thought dryly. That was right, people still had appetites to eat. But I sure wasn't one of them. "Can you just tell him that I came home then?"

"Of course!" he barked, fingertips still grazing the edge of his brow in formal gesture. He paused. " . . . Will you not be joining them?"

"No."

"Very well then." He bowed, and shuffled off to inform my master.

With a huff, I walked down the corridors until I reached my room. The door slid open smoothly. I stepped inside and shut the door. Then I slumped on the bed, kicking my shoes off and drawing my knees to my chest. And wept.

Every time the keening began to ebb, thoughts of other things-like my parents, who I hadn't seen in a long time, or my failure at airbending-triggered another wave of misery. And my cries continued.

Eventually I sobbed myself out, eyes drying, the shaking diminishing. I was left washed up and empty, like a forgotten seashell on the shore. My body ached from being shaped into a fetal position for so long, and at some point my head had landed on the pillow. The cloth was damp and cool, an antidote to my eyes, burned from exhaustion. I knew I needed to sleep-supposing I was still participating in the tournament tomor-later that day, I corrected myself. But what if Mako had decided to kick me out for good, deciding that their pride was not worth using me to win?

It was growing lighter outside before I felt the pull of sleep dragging my eyelids down.

As I lay down, tears silently making tracks across my face, I remembered.

I remembered kissing him.

And I remembered that he hadn't kissed me back.

I imagined that this must be what a hangover felt like.

Everything hurt. The laughter of the airbender kids in the courtyard sliced into my eardrums like a knife. My chest ached, as if someone had shoved their hand inside and had squeezed the crap out of my organs, especially my heart. I rubbed my eyes. They were sore, and puffy. I traced the thin skin underneath, stroking what was assuredly the dark crescent marks of my fatigue. I felt tired, and cranky. My head was pounding nauseatingly. I glared at the sun poking itself cheerily through my curtains, for daring to look so bright against the backdrop of my misfortune.

If only I could bend time, I would make it night again so that I could sleep. I thought moodily. But if I could do that, I knew there was more that I would do, which involved-

I sat up quickly. My mind now clearer than it was last night, I knew what I needed to do.

I needed to muster up an apology.

The idea made me recoil for a moment. It was just so foreign. I wasn't the one that apologized to people. They apologized to me. I had never really thought about it, but I didn't think I had uttered an apology more times than my fingers could count. I knew I had said sorry the other night-many times-but, a true heartfelt sorry where I was the one going out of my way to make things right?, just seemed unusual. Wrong, even. But I knew that it had to be done.

I don't know if I can ever make this right, I thought, but I forced my determination to crush all doubt. I had to try.

In the family dining room, Pema and the children were all eating breakfast, while Tenzin had already left for the council. I was wolfing down my meal as fast as I could without being too disrespectful.

"You seem to be in a hurry," Jinora noted, calm as ever, despite the fact that her siblings were doing their best to stick chopsticks up each others' noses right beside her.

"Ungh-hugh." I nodded my head in the affirmative, since my mouth was being put to other uses besides talking.

"Yes, you do seem to be in a hurry," Pema agreed, raising her eyebrows. Her mouth pulled up gently at the corners. "Off to meet your friend?"

I nearly choked on the bit of apple peel in my mouth at her knowing expression. Oh, Pema, I thought sadly. If only you knew. But instead, I said: "Actually Pema, I am." It hit me. Did I really know what I was going to say when I saw them? I had spent all morning rehearsing, and I hadn't come up with anything good . . . .

"I'm sorry you guys. It was a mistake. If you take me back I'll never ever do something like that again. Yeah. So sorry. Please take me back. Did I say I was sorry? Yeah, I'm sorry. Yeah."

Should I reveal my plight and ask for advice?

I stood up, feeling indecisive. "I'll clean this and then go," I said, clutching the used dishware to my chest.

Pema rose to her feet too, albeit with more difficulty. I rushed forward to help her up but she waved my arm away. "I'll take those," she said firmly, lifting the soiled bowl and utensils from my hands. "You just go have fun with your friend." Her eyes twinkled.

My stomach knotted uneasily. It was stupid, but I felt bad about the thought of telling Pema what had really happened under her advice. Evidently, she thought I was going to see him for happier reasons than was the reality.

Something of my ruminations must have shown in my expression because Pema's eyebrows pushed together. "Korra, can we talk in the kitchen?" She said quietly. Oh no oh no oh no. I felt guilt bubbling in my chest sickeningly. I followed her to the sink, where she set the dishes down before turning to face me, a hand resting on the bottom of her belly.

"Is there anything wrong?" She said gently, and I started with a jolt. How did she know?

She laughed; it was a pretty sound, reminiscent of tinkling wind chimes. "Oh, don't be so surprised. I'm a mother Korra." It was as if she had read my thoughts.

I watched my hands, which were twisting together nervously. "It's nothing." I moved to leave. But before I could abandon the room, words poured out of my mouth before I could stop them:

"What's the best way to apologize to someone?"

I froze. The atmosphere tensed for a second. Then it relaxed under the gentle stream of Pema's voice. "Korra . . . the most important thing to remember is this: it doesn't matter whether what you did or what anyone did was right or wrong."

"What I did was definitely wrong," I muttered to myself. I could almost hear her smiling softly.

"What matters is the bond you share," she continued, as if I hadn't spoken. "Don't lose sight of that. And if you are truly sorry, any person worth being your friend will accept you back."

My eyes grew wet. Any person worth being your friend will accept you back. I let my head hang forward, permitting the dangling tendrils of hair to shield my face. I tilted my head towards her. "Thank you." I whispered. Then I dashed out the room, so as to not be caught with the evidence of dejection streaming down my face.

I flew out the front doors, airbender-esque for the briefest of moments as I leapt over the stairs. I landed lithely, rolling on the balls of my feet before I resumed sprinting. A vague plan was forming in my head. I would secure their forgiveness, if it was the last thing I'd ever do.

I'll sleep downstairs in the gym everyday. I'll sit and wait for one of them to come acknowledge me, and I'll give the biggest apology ever. And I won't budge until they accept it. And if they ignore me, I'll just apologize anyway. And I still won't budge. And I'll only leave for bathroom breaks and food . . . only if they're not there. Yeah, and-

I was so wrapped up in my thoughts that I hadn't watched were I was stepping. I tumbled head over heals over a huge sack right in the middle of the winding stairs.

"OOF! ARGH! AHH!"

I rolled to a halt when the ground finally reached a plateau. A groan rose up from the bundle. "Mm, Korra? Is that you?" The bundle mumbled. It was a person! A person with a very familiar voice . . . .

I bolted upright, staring at the pile of withered blankets. "Bolin?" I cried in disbelief. I felt too shocked to ask the obvious. Why the hell are you sleeping on the stairs? Why are you here?

There was a tired chuckle. "Yep, it's me." Grunting, he threw the pile of blankets off. I saw a flash of pink before the blankets settled back down on the ground. Bolin proceeded to walk down the steps, stretching, and rubbing his face with his hands.

I studied him briefly. He was dressed in his usual garb, although his collar looked a bit looser and flatter than usual. His hair was all over the place, some of it falling in front of his eyes. Which, mentioning his eyes, it didn't look like he had slept much, either. I could see little purple half moons underneath them, and his eyes looked red and puffy.

My instincts nagged at me to get up. But I yelped as sharp pain hit my back when I tried. His expression concerned, he crouched next to me instead.

"Are you okay?" He inquired kindly.

I didn't answer his question. "You shouldn't be asking me that," I retorted quietly. "I should be asking you that." I stared pointedly at his misshapen hair.

He snorted, running a hand through it, and only succeeding in messing it up more. "Maybe we should both be asking each other, then?" He suggested, but I felt too forlorn to crack a smile. Plainly, he was making an endeavor to be cheerful, but for the likes of me I couldn't see why. Why he would act like that towards me, of all people, at least.

As it occurred to me that I had just caught him sleeping on the stairs, a suspicion formed in my mind. "How long have you been there?"

His expression changed immediately. He averted my eyes, shifting uncomfortably. "Erm, actually. Not too long."

I raised an eyebrow. "Not too long?" I asked incredulously. "You were asleep!" I gestured towards the pile of blankets behind him.

Strangely, he began to intertwine his fingers in a nervous manner. "Yes, I was," he agreed quickly. But when my expression didn't give way, he gave up. "I . . . couldn't sleep," he admitted.

"Well, clearly you could."

"No, no! You don't understand." And then his expression became flustered, as if he felt that he had said too much. "Er I mean-"

"Bolin."

He took a deep breath. "I didn't actually mean to fall asleep there, it just happened."

"'Just happened'?" Again, I was dubious. "How does that work?"

"I was waiting for you-just not there." He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand anxiously. "But I came here to sit on the stairs and . . . think, when it seemed that sleep wasn't coming for me. And afterwards . . . I guess I just sort of, nodded off."

"Then were where you earlier?" I wondered.

He hesitated, twisting the sash at his waist. "I was here, but I mean, I wasn't here here, here as in, on the island-" he began evasively, but my patience was wearing thin this early in the morning. It was all I could do to remind myself of what I had done last night to him and Mako that kept me from having an outburst.

So I tried a different tact. Because, as you know, being bullheaded hadn't done me any favors in the past. "Bolin," I murmured quietly. He immediately shut up, completely thrown off by the plea in my tone.

"Yes?" he replied, cautiously, as if I were a wounded animal that he wasn't sure was going to bite him upon approach.

"Please tell me." I closed my eyes. Waiting.

Apparently that worked, because I heard him inhale deeply. "I was . . ." He blew out a gust of air noisily. ". . . meditating at the terrace . . . near your room," he confessed, sounding sheepish. But at my expression of horror, he added quickly, "I asked a guard where your room was. I didn't stalk you. And, after I told him why I was there, he let me stay! As long as I allowed him to watch me to make sure I didn't do anything, uhm, fishy."

Shock was surging through my body like electricity. He had brought blankets with him, for spirits' sakes! All my earlier suspicions came racing back to me.

"How long?" I asked, almost inaudibly, although I already knew the answer.

He opened his mouth as if he were about to say something, and I expected him to say, How long until what?, but he didn't. He seemed to reconsider, because he and I both knew what I was asking him. He slumped. "All night," he whispered in defeat.

I swallowed hard, peering into his face, but he refused to meet my gaze. "Why?"

As if that was some kind of invitation, he sat on the cobblestone, crossing his legs. His hands were in his lap, and he glared at them, pensive. "I was so worried about you. Korra, when you left last night . . ." His hands clenched. "You didn't see yourself. But I did. I was so afraid of what you might do. For a second, when you jumped off that ledge-" his voice broke, "I thought . . . the worse. I was ready to dive in right after you-you don't know how relieved I was to see you waterbend yourself away. I thought you'd gone so berserk that you were trying to-to-"

For a second, I envisioned myself through Bolin's eyes. Hurt. Wild. Upset. Korra gone rabid, completely unrecognizable from herself. Not the strong Korra he was used to seeing. I remembered the fingernails that had bit into the flesh of my face, how that must have looked. I could almost feel the terror that must have risen inside of him. "You don't know how scared I was in that brief moment." His voice cracked. "And that's why I came here. To make sure you wouldn't do anything to hurt yourself. I just . . . had to know you were okay. But I wasn't sure what the sight of me would do to you." His face looked helpless.

"Oh, Bolin." I blinked, trying to hold back tears. Suddenly it all made sense. Why Bolin had made it a point to stay right outside my room. Why his eyes were darkened with sleeplessness. He must have been up all night to make sure that I wouldn't do something crazy like end my own life! He had come and stayed here to protect me from myself. Had I really given off that impression last night?

Couldn't I do anything right?

Then I threw my arms around him, clinging like he was life itself, ignoring the soreness in my back. I sobbed senselessly into him, burrowing my face in his shoulder. "Please fo-forgive m-me."

I felt him stiffen under me. His arms moved from under me and I braced myself, expecting him to push me away in disgust.

But that wasn't him. That wasn't Bolin. His arms wrapped around me, and he held me tighter, which only served to make me cry harder.

"Shh, Korra, no." He rubbed my back. "It's okay."

This felt so wrong. I wasn't the one who should be comforted by anybody. I was the Avatar! The ultimate comforter of the people! Yet here I was, enveloped by the embrace of the very person who had every right to despise me. "It-it's nuh-NOT okay," I bit my lip, hard, trying to force the sob down. I lowered my voice so that it wouldn't break. "I was going to c-come, if only to apologize. I figured Ma-Mako might go as far as to replace me on the team." I had to fight against my face to keep it from scrunching up. "I th-thought neither of you would ever w-want to see me again, b-but I wanted to try, I had t-to try-"

"Of course not! He wouldn't do that!" Bolin seemed genuinely baffled. He pulled me out at arms length. "I won't lie to you Korra, he's angry, but Mako will forgive you." He chuckled lightly, his expression gentle, but still troubled. "Despite what you might think, Mako is secretly a softy. But don't tell him I told you that."

I shook my head dismally. "He won't forgive me." But despite my disbelief, Bolin's words made me feel calmer somehow. The quaking of my body stilled, save for a few hiccups.

Bolin's eyes tightened. "No, Korra. He will. I promise." And with that he brought me close to his chest again, allowing my head to rest against him.

We stayed like that for a few moments, in companionable silence, until abruptly I asked: "Bolin, why aren't you upset at me?"

He was quiet for a few seconds before he answered. ". . . I was." The muscles in my stomach clenched painfully. "But . . . I figured you needed me more than my wounded pride. So I swallowed it and came."

His admission made my heart swell with remorse, but strangely . . . warmth as well. But I recognized then with painful clarity . . . Bolin had feelings for me. Of the real variety. I had assumed it was just a crush-but . . . this? Would I have even done this for Mako?

I wanted to search those sea-green eyes, as if gazing into them could reveal his inner soul, and tell me that these feelings of his weren't really, real. The fact that he cared so much made it hurt all the more. I had hurt him, no-smashed his heart into the ground and stomped on it without a second glance after the deed was done-and yet he had come back. Hurting him might not have been as painful . . . if I had not already known that I didn't, couldn't feel the same way. Even if I had wanted to. Because he deserved so much more than me.

I moved away from him, finding the strength to stand. The physical pain of the act was nothing compared to the ache in my chest, that was threatening to drown me. "You shouldn't have come." My heart was pounding in my throat; I felt like I was going to vomit it. My voice was thick with sadness, but not tears. There was only a tender resolve. "If you don't want to be friends with me anymore, I understand. I'm not worth all the trouble I've put you through. I want your forgiveness, yes. I want your friendship even more," I assured him earnestly, though he shook his head. "But I admit I'm not worthy of that much. I know that now. But thank you. Thank you for coming. Maybe if I can ever earn your friendship, then-"

"Then you don't know anything!" Bolin cut me off with a cry of exasperation. In the blink of an eye he was on his feet, hands grasping the tops of my arms, looking rather crazed as his forest eyes bored into me, imploring. "I meant everything I said before: you are amazing. Even if, you don't believe me, for what it's worth . . . the smartest, funniest, toughest, buffest, talented-est, incredible-est, most beautiful girl in the whole world-is still you! Why would I ever want to stop being friends with that?" He chuckled, though it was hysteric. He appeared torn between shaking and hugging me, so he instead contented himself with releasing me and wringing his hands.

He then took a deep breath, as if drawing patience from a place deep within himself. He then smiled, albeit somewhat painfully. "Korra . . . I just want you to know something. Mako and I fight all the time, but we still stick together. Through thick and thin. Because we're family." He held up a hand as I was about to protest. "Look, I know you may not understand this Korra, but sometimes, close friends become like family. You're family isn't here with you right now, so Mako and I-we are your family. We're going to stick with you. Or at least, I will," he amended. "And that's why. . . " He walked back up to where his blankets were, rummaging around. Again, I saw a vision of pink before he quickly hid it as he walked back down towards me. ". . . I want you to have these." He whipped out a bouquet of somewhat crushed, but still pretty, pink roses. " . . . Even if you don't feel the same way."

My face fell when I saw the flowers. Roses. The flowers of beauty, love and passion. The thorns a sharp reminder of love's pain. Their little petals danced in the slight breeze, as the wind carried an amorous scent that tickled my nose. It looked so pretty, smelled so pretty, the thought behind it was so pretty . . . "I can't-I can't accept these." I shoved the roses away from me, pushing his hands into his chest where he clung onto them.

"Actually, I was going to give them to you last night, at the arena. But, things happened." He grimaced.

Oh. Oh. Is that why he had been there last night? To give these to me . . . ? I peeked at him from under my lashes, but his expression gave nothing away. He looked down, holding out the bouquet again. "Korra, please. If I got these for you, at the very least you should have them," he said firmly. There was something unspoken in his voice-something that didn't exactly demand, but didn't leave room for argument either. He would not allow me to insult him this way again. I had to take them.

I sighed, gingerly lifting the bouquet from his hands. "Thank you, Bolin," I said shyly, sniffing them before hugging him. They really did smell nice. But I wasn't just talking about the flowers.

Because of that weird connection we shared-the one where we seemed to intuitively grasp the other person-I didn't think there was a need to elucidate. The soft glow in his eyes told me that somehow, he knew what I meant.

He held me closely to him. "I'll always be here for you, Korra."

I closed my eyes, feeling dazed. Because inside myself, I did know. I knew full well that he would always be there, supporting me. Because, I understood now what it was that he was feeling. It made me uncomfortable, and I didn't want to think about it.

So, in those few moments of our embrace, I pretended to not comprehend the reasons why.

A/N: The one-sided Borra. Aw my heart goes out to Bolin! Truly. *huggles him* I just wish you guys knew the full story of what happened that night when Korra fled and what exactly Bolin did and was thinking. And also, the exchange between him and Mako. It bothers me that you guys don't know because I'm just like AHHH SOMETHING IS MISSING BUT I CAN'T SAY STUFFS YET CUZ ARGH I PROMISED MYSELF MEH. -pout-

I made Bolin forgiving. And even after having his heart ripped out, Bolin made the decision to still go after her anyway. Is he just a glutton for punishment *or* is he hurting way more than you think he lets Korra see? Eh? THIS IS WHY I was SO TEMPTED to write it from Bolin's p.o.v. . . . all in good time. *sigh* Then Bolin's feelings on everything, I feel, would be much clearer. But, Korra being Korra, and since this IS her p.o.v., I tried to keep her in character but making her oblivious to Bolin's feelings even when she, well, isn't. Oh Korra, honey. Which brings me to my second point-I hope you guys understand my rationale for interpreting Korra's character this way. I am trying to keep her in character. I hated having her cry so much, but I hope I made it clear just how much losing the only friends she ever had, means to her. She's naive in many aspects of life, don't forget. So it's rather devastating for her. Korra is strong, I believe that, but not in every aspect, and I think, sometimes she tries to be strong for herself and others because she's the avatar, not that she always is. No one is all the time, honestly. Oh. And plus, she broke down too because, if you didn't noticed, she feels like all kinds of things are going wrong-not just this-so the kissing incident was more of a catalyst than anything.

Sorry, that was super long. That is, if you even read through all that LOL. Reviews are super welcome! Help me improve my writing purleeezee. What's your reward? FASTER CHAPTER UPDATES ERHMEHGERD YAY. :D