Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Bolin

This chapter is served best when listening to "Let's Call The Whole Thing Off" on Drake's So Far Gone mixtape.

For an Earthbender, Bolin was really...leaky.

His face. His face was really leaky: tears and drool and snot.

"Narook," he practically whimpered as he walked into Narook's Seaweed Noodlery, "do you, do you have a free table?"

The shop's owner looked at the seventeen-year-old and his fire ferret draped over his shoulder, its little pink tongue licking at the tears streaming down his cheek. Bolin, as strong as he looked and as strong as he was, just looked a mess. His entire body seemed to sag on itself, like he was ready to curl under those disks he tossed around and never come out again. Heartbreak, plain and simple; the only kind of hurt that could break a tougher man and destroy a kinder one. "Sure, Bo. My best booth, just for you." The young boy practically sagged unto the leather, his cheek pressing on the cool granite and Formica table top. "What can I get you?"

One cup of Lotus Huangjiu.

One platter of chicken and leek dumplings. Fried.

One bowl of Water Tribe Noodles, hot. The large serving.

One Pu Pu Platter —two egg rolls, three fried wantons, two fried potstickers, two skewered chicken kabobs, one steamed meatball, and Shrimp Shaomai.

One bowl of raw, minced chicken—for Pabu.

"Put it on Mako's bill, Narook." Because even though Narook didn't have a problem with giving his best customer a discount (especially since business had never been better since the day the newspapers had caught the Bending Brothers eating here after one of their victories), and Bolin probably didn't have enough money to cover everything, Mako didn't deserve to be let off the hook so easily.

"Sure thing, Bo."

The Lotus Huangjiu, every cool drop that went from mouth to throat to stomach was to numb his brain, to help him from the sting and thought of it all. He finished half of it before the noodles came.

The dumplings were for him. They were his favorite food: comfort and heaven, meat folded up and encased in the pinched, doughy casing outside that was fried, golden and slightly burnt. There were few smells in the world that made him feel better.

The noodles were because of her. Because he knew regardless of the role she played in breaking his heart, he knew that he wouldn't be over her easily. Because Korra was Korra and every part of her, physically and...non-physically was still amazing, still made his heart beat faster and his pits sweat.

And they were to remember the best date he had ever had with the greatest girl ever. Slowly and mournfully slurped and eaten. Because of the memories, the sounds of them swallowing the green noodles. Because he remembered the tips whipping like snakes as they were eaten and splashing broth on her stuffed cheeks and dripping from those amazing, full, beautiful lips of her and into the porcelain bowl.

Those lips he watched lead her to her brother's, that told her to close her eyes, that told her to blush and not pull away, that made that tiny smack he had wanted and imagined she'd make when he finally grew courageous and kissed her. Not once realizing that because Korra was a girl and liked The Fire Ferrets, she, like most of the others girls that liked The Fire Ferrets, liked his brothe—

That wasn't helping...

"How you doing there, Bo?" A thumbs-up in Narook's direction. His lifted cup, the signal for some more. "Okay, gotcha...pace yourself there."

He sniffled and let the tears fall more, his napkins and sleeve his tissue.

And the appetizer platter. Mako's favorite thing to order because he saw it as him being able to buy a bunch of food for less, always the responsible penny-pincher. Bolin didn't necessarily eat everything—he gnashed and/or inhaled the food between his molars and swallowed the last of it down with a gulp audible to his ears, his stomach burning and twisting with anger, and his brow heavy with sadness. It was the only way he could be angry, be physically aggressive towards Mako because, deep down when it absolutely counted, he could never truly beat up his brother-turned-mother-and-father.

Even though Mako knew how Bolin felt and still didn't pull away, but kissed Korra back. Kissed. Korra. Back.

Even though Mako was the one that said that dating a teammate wasn't a good idea or combination or whatever he said because Mako was so socially stunted and brooding that the only way he could communicate period was to talk in Probending. And then broke his own rule by kissing Korra back.

Even though Mako had Asami Sato. Beautiful, generous, humble, and amazing Asami—probably the only girl in the entire world that could come close to comparing to Korra herself. The only girl that could make deciding between Korra and another girl a coin toss.

Bolin's head was swimming. The only reason he wasn't crying anymore was because the feeling had been buried alive under the haze of his inebriation, but it was still alive and thudded painfully to claw its way up. He couldn't do anything about it. He was either going to stay here, or he was going to sleep in the park or gutter or something because there was no way he was going home tonight. Not with Mako.

"Drinking more huangjin isn't going to make the feeling go away. It'll just numb it until tomorrow and then it'll hurt worse. You definitely need all your wits—you're in a match tomorrow, 'member?"

More...something. Another platter. More food for Pabu, too. And remember—all on Mako's tab. It was the least his brother could do for breaking his heart. The...the...brother-betrayer.

"...Okay. And soda to calm your stomach. You're gonna have one hangover."

The tabletop felt so good, so cool.

Eating One's Emotions. Set after "Spirit of Competition."

Okay, definitely a T-rating going on ladies and gents. I love watching the "Spirit of Competition" (the sexual tension is ridiculous) and I have always kinda wondered what exactly did Bolin eat that all those bowls and plates were on the table. I love Bolin—he's a sweetheart.

Huangjin is a particular type of alcohol native to China.

R&R.