487 Acacia Willows
Seven: Green Light Across the Bay
"We're trying to be bright, but always dark. We still don't know if we've lived to the extent that we can."
—Rap Monster, Life
. . . .
While The Golden Lily had been underwhelming the first time Korra and Tahno had patroned there, the establishment is an absolute vision during the evening, and Korra can spot the bright, vertical sign from down the block, and shiny, black and cherry red Satomobiles line the alleyway and the side of the street, causing quite a traffic jam to back down the street, car horns honking and people yelling becoming the soundtrack of the evening.
To Korra's surprise, Tahno and his friends (her friends too, now, Koko had sweetly said earlier), had chosen to walk to the venue, Shaozu saying that it was a lovely evening, and he wouldn't trust the bimbos' running the valet service with his baby (his burgundy Satomobile with chrome accents, Tahno had translated for Korra) for longer than twenty minutes. Seeing as Tahno didn't live more than fifteen minutes away on foot, no one could argue.
Tahno and Korra linger behind everybody as the group clots along the street and saunters down, Tahno's arm once again slung lazily around Korra's figure. Had it been broad daylight, Korra would've pushed him away and teased him for being so clingy (when really, he was anything but, and she appreciated it grandly), but the night conceals their affections, and Republic City's evening crowd of dolled up girls, big shot boys, and swanky musicians seems much more into their own business than the nosy day crowd of businessmen and photojournalists, so Korra can't really find a reason to object to his touch.
"Hurry up, slow pokes! We're almost there!" Koko, who had been leading the group, cries out excitedly over her shoulder, a bright smile stretching her lips.
Korra hasn't really noticed—too swept up in the ethereal liberation of the night's scene—that yes, indeed the streets have become more densely packed, and they're actually their way through what must be a line of people waiting to get in, but all orderliness has been lost, and it's actually just a large group of people dressed to the nines bundled about the entrance of The Golden Lily.
The presence of the crowd almost has Korra going defensive, because as of late, most of the crowds she's been around have been composed of people who were less than pleased with how little she had been doing (as if they truly knew her schedule), and it's with baited breath that she realizes that the people are becoming much more excited and staring at them, but it's not because of her.
"Spirits, is that Ming from the Wolfbats?"
"I think it is—and how! That's Shaozu behind him, and—oh goodness! It's Tahno Kurosawa!"
Korra can't help her smile, and she tilts her head a bit and walks on the balls of her feet, her lips just barely brushing Tahno's ear. "Guess you're still a big deal, huh?" She goads, relishing in the small smile that teases his lips.
"Mm, kind of," He purrs, his voice so low over the noise of the people that they're pushing through that Korra doesn't hear him more than she feels the way his timbre vibrates his skin.
Together, they ease past the bouncers guarding the entrance of the facility with little more than a glance from the tall men, who seem preoccupied with controlling the flouncy and flustered dolls who've lost their wits upon seeing the Former Wolfbats together in all of their glittering glory.
And Korra is absolutely floored by how drastically different the night time atmosphere of The Golden Lily is compared to the stifling business ambiance that she had seen several weeks ago with Tahno. It's as soon as they walk in that Korra can feel the floor of the place throbbing with the vibrations of the music, and the live music that Tahno had praised a few times in the past was absolutely alight, the band playing a song that's heavy on the piano and drums, with a saxophone singing a seductive duet with the main vocalist.
"The floor is thumping in this old house…" come the sultry vocals of man whom Korra cannot see, and Korra murmurs a quiet "wow" that's lost to the noise, because the singer's voice is sinister, and sends tingles up her arms. It's quite a fitting song—eerie and menacing with a swinging bassline that's simply screaming and making the floorboards throb beneath her feet.
The Golden Lily is not nearly as crowded as it looks like it would be outside. While it's still rather full, there's room for Korra to maneuver comfortably without groaning at stepped-on toes and awkwardly apologizing for bumping into random bypassers. She absolutely hates apologizing.
Caught up in her observations—Spirits, she knew Republic City was known for its lively party scene, but she hadn't imagined it would be like this—Korra hasn't noticed Tahno pulling her to a booth near the back with the rest of his friends. The booth is far too small for all six of them, and after much laughter and an oddly placed "Ming, baby, I love you, but your butt is huge, move over!" from Shaozu, they all manage to squeeze into the leather upholstered seats, girls on one side, guys on the other, and all across from their respective partners.
Korra sinks further into the seat than she remembers, but that's probably accounted to the other two girls beside her—for somehow, both she and Tahno have ended up squeezed in the middle of the chaos, but Tahno seems to be having a much more difficult time than she, and as she looks across the table, Korra can't help but laugh.
She has heard the rumors that The Wolfbats had only had a shallow, mutualistic friendship—one that fell apart as soon as Amon's dirty hand had ruined the corrupted careers of the three—but now Korra can confirm that there's hardly any merit to the idea. Ming and Shaozu and Tahno are closer than anybody Korra's ever seen, and the dynamic that the three form seems to follow a delicate balance.
The three are incredibly affectionate, she notes, pressed shoulder to shoulder in the booth, and both Ming and Shaozu have fallen prey to Tahno's natural magnetism, and are leaning against the latter, Ming with the lazy posture of one resting against their best friend, and Shaozu, who has his arms looped around Tahno's right arm, and is looking up at him with mockingly big eyes and battling his lashes, suppling the drama.
"Spirits," Shaozu cries in a voice several octaves higher than his normal tone. "It's Tahno Kurosawa! Oh, take me home with you!" He's mimicking the words of affection that had been squealed at them as they entered—for it seems that not even a stutter in his abilities can keep ladies from fawning over Tahno.
Fei and Koko roar beside Korra with laughter at Shaozu, but Korra finds herself laughing the hardest at Tahno's facial expression. His lips are pursed together as if he's just sucked on something sour, and his eyes are focused on the ceiling, nostrils flaring as he huffs like a child, and if Korra didn't know any better, she would think that Tahno was praying for patience to be bestowed upon him by the spirits above.
But, despite the irritation in his body language, everybody seems to be aware that Tahno's only playing, even as he shakes Shaozu off with a (rather violent) jerk of his arm.
"You slay me, Shao," Tahno grumbles, though his lips till up with the beginnings of a smile.
With the friendly banter hung well in the air, and the band changing its tune to something that has even Korra wiggling in her seat, Ming, who's pressed against the wall, furthest from the opening of the booth, leans forward.
"Home base?" He says, his hand splaying out against the wood of the table. "I know all too well that you two," Ming points accusatory fingers at Shaozu and Fei. "Will be off doing Spirit's know what on that dance floor."
Fei, flustered, denies the claim with a wave of her hand. "Oh, pipe down!" She pouts. Shaozu, however, doesn't even bother denying anything.
"And Tahno will probably drag you off to be a square somewhere around here," Ming says, winking at Korra. Tahno feigns exasperation and runs a hand through his hair.
"Oh, will he now?" Korra plays along, enjoying being the one to tease Tahno for once. He's cute when he's pretending to be vexed.
"Koko and I will be over there," Ming raises his hand higher to point at what Korra believes to be the area of the facility with Pai Sho and other tables, though her memory could be failing her, since she's only been to The Golden Lily once before, and hadn't paid a grand amount of attention to the entertainment that it offered.
By this point, Shaozu has grown impatient, and waves Ming off with a flippant hand. "Yeah, yeah, meet here when we're ready to close up shop, don't get into any fights, use protection," He lists off what clearly have been the ground rules in the past.
Shaozu glances at Tahno. "Do you want to add anything, Mom?"
Tahno holds his hands up to show that they're empty. "Go wild," He says, voice low, lips turned up, and as if to punctuate the apparent granting of freedom, there's a loud sound of bottles popping and girls crying out in excitement from the bar.
That seems to be all the approval that Fei and Shaozu need, and suddenly the latter is dragging the former off to the dance floor, hand in hand, and Fei stumbles a bit before casting her gaze back to the table with a grin that stretches from ear to ear and waves her farewell. Korra finds herself biting back a smile, and she glances at Tahno from across the table, who only rolls his eyes and laughs, though Korra can't hear the sound herself.
Beside her, Koko tentatively nudges her leg. "I'm itching to be out of here," She whines a bit, looking at Korra with big, girlish eyes. "You understand, right? I mean—those tables are just calling my name!" Koko's gaze is directed from Korra, to the direction of the Pai Sho tables, and she sighs wistfully.
Korra presses her lips together, trying her absolute hardest to keep a straight, solemn face. "Nope. Sorry, you're just going to have to sit here, because I'm not moving."
Across the table, Ming and Tahno lean into each other and share muted laughter.
Koko's face falls, though she tries not to look entirely too dejected. Sitting beside Avatar Korra isn't bad at all, she tries to tell herself.
"Oh, that's okay," Her voice is softer, and she glances at her hands. "This will be fun too! I mean, you seem pretty cool and all," Koko's beginning to ramble, and Korra's beginning to crack. Spirits, the girl is just too cute, too fun to not play around with a little, and with a soft laugh, Korra grabs Koko's hand and stands from the booth.
They both stumble as they stand upright, and Korra makes sure they're both not going to hit the ground, before releasing the other girl's hand. "I'm joking, Koko. The Avatar has to laugh, too." She explains with a light heart.
Koko blinks in surprise, glancing at Tahno and Ming, who are still sitting leg to leg in the booth and barely concealing their own smiles. The girl's eyes grow wide, and there's a brief pause, before a flash of understanding illuminates her eyes, and a grin pulls at her lips.
Koko points an accusing finger at Korra. "That was really sneaky, Kor!" She chastises, and begins to laugh.
Korra, however, is completely caught off guard by the nickname bestowed upon her so nonchalantly by the girl whom she has only known for a few moments. She smiles, and brushes it off, watching in a daze as Ming and Tahno shimmy from their seats, and Koko grabs Ming's hand and drags him off to the Pai Sho tables with a high-pitched, 'see you in a few hours!' that plays the part of both of their farewells.
Alone with Tahno, who stands before her, gazing down upon her with those sweet bedroom eyes, Korra blinks, chiding herself for slipping into a daydream.
"You're drifting, My Love," His voice creeps out to her through a fog, clears her mind and chases away the haze that's suddenly filled her mind.
Korra furrows her brows at him, lips pulling out into a pout, and she crosses her arms beneath her bust, pretending as though she's grown cross with him (though she hasn't—she couldn't, she wouldn't).
"No, I'm not. You're just being a creep." She looks at him through long eyelashes, and Spirits, he's smiling at her again. But it's the same grin he's been wearing all night—it doesn't reach his eyes, doesn't reach his heart, and it's not Tahno smiling at her—it's Feng, it's the Entertainer.
"It's pushy in here, isn't it?" He asks her, lifting a hand to brush his knuckles ever-so-gently along the skin of her forearm, his eyes never once leaving hers, and involuntarily, she shivers and leans into his touch. It's the champagne, she tells herself. That's why she's behaving like this, that's why she's so addicted to whatever sin he represents, addicted to this bubble he lives in, where women call each other informally and wear short skirts and cut their hair to their ears.
It's the alcohol, she reassures herself, and maybe the stuffy interior of The Golden Lily, the atmosphere so thick with lingering smoke clouds from burning and burnt-out cigarettes that it irritates her nose, and vaguely, her conscience screams at her (though it sounds rather faint through the mask of her inhibitions, or lack thereof) that there's absolutely no way she'll be able to make it past Mako and his polar-bear dog nose in the morning.
She nods, halfway understanding Tahno's question, and knowing that it's rhetorical, so it doesn't really matter if she fully comprehends him or not—and anyway, his sixth sense, his odd connection to her emotions (she still swears he possesses supernatural abilities, even if he claims he isn't the most spiritual of people) seems to have made the haze in her mind apparent to him.
He laughs and quicker than she can react, presses a quick peck of his lips against her cheek, the touch dissipating as soon as she registers that it was there, and grabs her hand. Together, they weave through the crowd of people, hastily passing by Shaozu and Fei, who are completely lost in song. Somewhere along the way, Korra ends up in front of Tahno, guided by his hand resting in along the gentle curve of her back, and she glares at him from over her shoulder.
"I know you're a gentleman and all, but really, Tahno, I don't care if you lead," She calls over the music, but Tahno only laughs behind her, and pushes her towards a black door, marked with the number 19 in silver paint.
They stop in front of it—or rather, Korra drags her heels into the ground and forces them to a halt in front of the door, examining it with furrowed brows, and then glances up at the ceiling. The Golden Lily's ceilings are rather high, and she can't possibly imagine a second floor having been stuffed into the place.
Tahno nudges her from behind, his fingers lifting to sift through her hair. "Go on, Darling," He whispers against her ear, and she can feel his lips as they barely caress her skin, can feel his voice sending bundles of heat through her body from her head to her toes, and she's reminded of the way the champagne had tasted upon her tongue earlier, at his apartment.
His gentle encouragement, coupled with her own curiosity is what makes her give him one last prodding glance, before pushing the door open with both hands. She's not entirely sure what her expectations had been-for Tahno was full of surprises, and it wouldn't have made her gasp of there was a (animal)-horse drawn carriage just beyond the door-but she wasn't expecting stairs.
There's a long, rather narrow set of stairs before her, and they ascend upwards in a delicate S shape. Korra's curious, undoubtedly so, but looks back at Tahno with a brow raised, because she's not entirely sure if her suspicion outweighs her inclination to go up. Behind her, he's watching with amused eyes, a smile tugging his lips, and he nods, cocking his head toward the stairs.
"It's only up from here, Sweetheart." He says softly, and something catches in Korra's throat and makes it difficult to swallow, because she can swear that there's a fragmented memory in her mind of a neglected display of newspaper headlines, and one of them dates back to three years earlier, with the excited title It's Only Up From Here! above a picture of a fresh-faced, first time championship team, The White Falls Wolfbats.
She sighs, the exertion of air forcing a ghost of a smile onto her lips. Her eyes flicker up, and she sighs again, this time more exaggerated and melodramatic, partly because Spirits, that's a lot of stairs, and partly because she wants to clear her throat and the guilt that weighs her heart down when she thinks for too long about who she's with.
"I swear, Tahno, if there isn't something amazing at the top of these stairs, I'm going to push you down them."
He laughs—actually laughs—something so musical and beautiful that it could put the singer at the head of The Golden Lily to shame, and ushers her up the stairs.
The ascent upwards was long, filled with playful banter and stubbornness on Korra's fault, and when they finally do reach the light at the end of the tunnel (which isn't a light at all, but rather a door) and pass through (open the door), Korra finds that the breathlessness in her lungs from the exertion (which was only exerting due to the alcohol in her system) is completely worth it.
Much to her surprise, The Golden Lily does indeed have a second floor—though one without a ceiling hanging above their heads. The roof of the vicinity is a scene that looks like it should be painted and hung amongst the quiet, intriguing artwork in Tahno's apartment.
It's much slower on the roof, much more breathable, and there's a band here, too, off to the far right, set up beside what looks like a bar, something low-key, that's serving couples too lost in their own worlds to pay any attention to the odd pair that's just emerged. The band is small—much smaller than the group that's entertaining downstairs—and they're playing a soft tune that Korra recognizes to be one of Tahno's favorite records, a soft, romantic melody that sings its song without words.
There are tables and chairs, too, and if Korra had paid closer attention to the decor, she would've noticed that they were covered in a delicate gold leaf that contributed grandly to the heavenly aura that the roof of The Golden Lily harbors. There are few people—women dressed in clothing similar to that of what Koko and Fei were wearing downstairs, and men dressed like Tahno and The Wolfbats.
She turns to look at Tahno, eyes wide, pupils blown in amazement, because even though the floor beneath their feet is still pumping and thumping with the wildlife that's occurring just a few flights beneath them, this is far more relaxing, far more fitting of the Tahno that she knows.
He chuckles softly at her expression—those bright, doe-eyes remind him of just how childlike Korra really is; remind him of just how much he'd love to preserve the sparkle that she carries that reminds him so much of how his eyes used to glitter, if only months before.
"Oh, Honey," Tahno coos, taking one of her hands in his own, and pulling her forward and leading her for the first time since the evening had begun. "This is hardly the best part,"
She smiles at him, though it's not flirty or shy—but coy, as if she's biting her tongue to keep herself from spitting something quick-witted back at him—and follows him, cocking a brow up.
"You're just full of surprises, aren't you?" She manages to say, expecting an instantaneous reply from him that leaves her reeling in his ability to construct sentences, but to her surprise, Tahno only hums in agreement, and presses her against the bordered edge of the roof, stands beside her, and tells her to look.
When she does bring her eyes out, she can feel her breath as it's stolen from her lungs, and her pupils grow wide, desperately trying to take in as much of the scene before her as they can.
Tahno's apartment has a beautiful view of the city. Not only is the complex in the heart of Republic City, but it's also dizzyingly high up. From the living room, one can watch the blurry lights of cars and hear the screaming sounds of the nightlife as the city unravels with the rising of the moon, and from his bedroom balcony, Korra can stand, pressed against the railing until it's biting into her ribcage and tempting her balance, and stare out across the city and watch the push and pull of Yue Bay, the waters reflecting the lights and liveliness of the docks and businesses that stand at the mouth of Republic City.
But this—this is entirely different.
The Golden Lily, though it has high ceilings, is certainly no high rise, and as she looks down, peering directly over the crowds of people who stand, giddy and excited, at the entrance of the building, she feels like she could fall. She can just barely see the tops of the buildings that surround them, can just barely see into the windows of the tiny apartment block squeezed between a shopping center and a restaurant across the street. She feels so incredibly close to the city, but just far enough to breathe.
She blinks and looks at him, and her cheeks flush a deep when she realizes that while she's been staring at the view of Republic City, he's been staring at her with those drunken bedroom eyes and crooked, hidden smile. They're silent for a moment, staring at each other, and Korra feels breathless, completely asphyxiated, as if they've just kissed, though he hasn't even touched her. His eyes, she notices, stray to her lips from time to time, where they linger, and eventually drift back up to bond in eye contact once more, and she almost brings her hand to her mouth to feel if there's anything lingering behind on them.
It's the band that finally breaks the atmosphere, the bubble that Tahno and Korra have formed around themselves, as the song changes into something almost melancholy in nature, that opens with a weeping sweep of the piano keys and a sob from the trumpet.
"I…" Korra's words are stolen—drifting along a breeze somewhere in the city. Tahno nods anyway, as if he understands what she's thinking.
"Beautiful, hm?" He drawls, but he doesn't even spare a glance at the cityscape, doesn't even turn his body toward it. He stays facing her, keeps his eyes on her as they ghost over the features of her face. He's not talking about the city—not at all—but Korra doesn't seem to notice.
She turns her attention back to the open, sucking her lip between her teeth and nodding. "I've never really seen it from this angle, you know? I'm always…" She pauses, chewing her words. "I'm always above it. Or far away from it."
Korra knows she's rambling—talking simply because she can, talking simply because there's something about Tahno that pulls her heart from her chest and displays it on her sleeve. He clings to every word she says, every syllable that leaves her lips—makes her feel so special, but not Avatar special.
No, just Korra special.
Beside her, Tahno's tongue darts out to wet his lips, and he doesn't say anything, because he knows she isn't finished yet, but she's too engrossed in the view to continue in a timely manner. It doesn't really matter to him, waiting for her to speak. He has time—too much time—and watching her, being with her helps him forget just how fleeting everything really is.
It's sudden, her next movements, because she turns to him, pupils still large, and abruptly says, "I didn't know you had friends." and the words fall so quickly from her lips that Tahno has to take a step back and pause to comprehend them.
Korra's cheeks grow red, for she hadn't meant to blurt out an insult towards him. She had actually meant to ask about The Wolfbats, ask about Ming and Shaozu, because it had been bothering her (though not really bothering—rather, prodding her thoughts with rumors and brief recollections of newspaper headlines from months before) since she had arrived at Tahno's apartment.
"I mean—" She clears her throat, turning back to the railing that lines the roof, and lifts a hand to tuck her hair behind her ear. She's not used to wearing it down, and furthermore, she's not used to acting so girly, not used to choking on her words and trying to construct her thoughts carefully and eloquently.
"I didn't know you guys—" She interrupts herself. "—You, Ming, and Shaozu, were still so close."
A soft "oh," of understanding emits from Tahno, and if she had looked, she would've seen his smile, coupled with lively eyes.
Tahno leans against the railing with leisure, still watching Korra. "And what, pray tell, did you think we were?" His voice is light, the words airy, because he's teasing—always teasing.
Korra bites her lip and directs her gaze to him almost shyly, because she knows she's about to cross into dangerous territory. "I thought you all kind of… broke it off." She admits, watching Tahno's reactions carefully.
As always, he's nearly completely unreadable. His expression hasn't really changed—he's still wearing a crooked grin, and the only clue she receives that it's okay to continue is the lift of his eyebrow that seems more sardonic than anything else.
But he's slowly putting on a mask, and Korra can tell because she can almost visibly count the stars in his eyes as they die.
"C'mon," She swats him on the arm with the back of her hand, hoping to ease the mood, and knowing no other way than playful violence. "Can you blame me? I mean, you never talk about them, and the last I heard of either of them, you had all gone your separate ways."
Space has gone completely dark, but Tahno responds anyway, mimicking her aura—but for the first time, he turns his full attention to the city. "You've never asked, Darling," He's smiling as he says it, but Korra knows better.
She inches a bit closer to him, blinking as she looks at him, their positions having completely switched, for now it's he who's smitten with Republic City, and she who can't draw away from him.
"I'm asking now," Korra's softer this time. Tahno's far more delicate than he lets on, and if she treats him as she would Mako or Bolin or even Asami, given the circumstance, he'll withdraw from her completely and become The Entertainer—a man of false smiles and an even faker personality.
There's a beat of silence that's filled by the crying song that the band is playing and idle chatter of the people that litter around them, but neither Korra nor Tahno can hear anything other than each other's breathing.
Tahno's hand fists his pocket, fingers fumbling around idly until they find the round, smooth paper of the cigarettes he had tucked away for safekeeping. He doesn't yet pull one out, however. He's not entirely keen on smoking around her.
Finally, he speaks, but doesn't look at her. Korra bites back her irritation and tells herself that even baby steps are progress.
"They went home." Is all that Tahno says, his voice so distant that Korra wonders if he even knows he's talking out loud.
Her brows furrow a bit. "And?"
"And that's it. The newspapers are quite dramatic, aren't they?" He's slurring his words heavily, and she knows its intentional—and she knows that this is a story that can't be told in just three words.
"That's not it," Korra presses, turning her gaze outward. "Just—I'm asking, Tahno." She's frustrated now, and she feels bad because she knows she doesn't have a right to grow cross. He's only ever been kind to her—so completely, blindly loving. She wishes he'd get angry because at least then she'd have something to work with—she'd know that he feels too.
Tahno sighs and runs a hand through his hair.
His fingers snag on the strands.
"They stayed behind for only a few days—Shaozu perhaps a few weeks," He begins almost mindlessly— because disconnecting himself from his words makes them hurt less—and Korra stops her tantrum, immediately intrigued by both his words and the tone of his voice. This so drastically different from how she had heard him not even two hours earlier, telling a story with such vivid animation, such fluctuation in his voice that it was as if she had been watching a play.
Now, however, he's monotonous and tired with his words, but she looks at him and silently encourages him nonetheless.
He continues. "Ming lasted three days," Tahno squeezes his eyes shut, because he can't stand it, can't stand the vision of not only his teammates, but his closest friends, as they had been—drained of life, walking about his apartment (because it had always been a sanctuary, only for different people at different times) with eyes that were constantly on the verge of misting over, and blaming their tears on the heavy smoke that had accumulated as a result of all of them chain smoking but refusing to open a window.
"He was on the first rail back to Ba Sing Se," He opens his eyes again, this time to stare blankly at the bright lights of the city that illuminate them, and hope that they can bring an artificial life to his eyes. "Shaozu stayed for two weeks after that, but it's always easier with family, isn't it?"
Something about the question make's Korra's heart clench in her chest, and she reaches for Tahno's hand, their fingers lacing together, and gives his a gentle squeeze. She understands what he means—for when she had been lost to Amon's hand, she had wanted everything and nothing all at once—had wanted to surround herself with the people who she knew cared for her the most and could support her, and wanted to isolate herself away, the same way Tahno, Ming, and Shaozu had.
"Why didn't you go home?" For whatever reason, Korra's voice catches on the last word. She's not sure she wants to know the answer to the question.
He shrugs beside her and smiles, and she realizes that he's beginning to pull back—he's beginning to slip from her fingers again and she wants to so desperately claw for him and scream at him to stop doing this, stop faking everything.
There's something incredibly off about his smile, though she can only see half of it. She knows of people who smile when they want to cry, and laugh when they want to scream, and while Korra had done such things before, she's never made it a habit, but she's beginning to wonder if that's the kind of person that Tahno is.
"This is home, Sweetheart." He still hasn't looked at her, hasn't turned his gaze away from the city, and Korra isn't sure if she has the right to feel relieved—for she isn't sure what she'll see when she meets his eyes. She wants to reach out to him, wants to bring him the same comfort that he brings her, because it's so painfully obvious that something isn't right, and this is the most he's ever talked to her about himself.
But with every word he speaks—every word she chokes back—Tahno draws further away from her and further into the shell that Korra, try as she might, cannot break.
Her lips press together, and she decides to change the subject. Perhaps he'll wear down somewhere else and she'll be able to wiggle her way back into the sour spots that are darkening his heart and destroying the stars in his eyes.
She clears her throat before she speaks. "So, what about Fei and Koko?" There's the slightest hesitation as Korra voices Koko's name, like the syllables come with a shock upon the tongue every time she says them, and Tahno—oh, ever so attentive, Tahno—notices.
Tahno laughs, though it's more of a broken scoff, and his head hangs down for a moment. "What about them, baby?"
Baby. Korra feels like she's had another glass of champagne, and suddenly she wants to hit him or push him over the edge of the roof—she wants to beg him not to call her that. Sweetheart, Darling, Honey—anything but baby—because that's so intimate, and validates her already horrifying awareness of her feelings for him.
It feels stuffy again, but they're already outside—they can't go anywhere else.
She swallows her feelings, opting instead to loop her arms around his—similar to the way Shaozu had clung to him, earlier—and lean her head against him, and together, they drink in the city.
"Just tell me something, Tahno," Korra says tiredly. "Anything."
There's a beat in conversation, lulled into something soothing by the band's soft tune which seems to hover just above them, just behind them, just in front of them, but never permeates their world.
"Fei has always liked me better," Tahno finally says, and there's a twinge in his voice that's so smug, Korra's almost taken back in time with it. He's becoming the storyteller again, but she's so infatuated with his tone that she can't bring herself to care.
It is surprising, however, hearing Tahno's declaration, because Fei and Shaozu had been so playfully sweet with each other that it was difficult for Korra to imagine the two of them fawning over anybody else.
"I don't believe you." Korra says, though she's smug too—teasing him the same way he always teases her. Beside her, he chuckles, and Korra doesn't ever think she'll tire of his laughter, no matter how reserved the sound seems to be.
"Do you remember," He begins, words heavily slurred, and Korra lets her eyes flutter shut, because she knows he's about to paint a scene before her eyes with his words, about to break the concept of time and bring her into the past.
"—how we met?"
Korra's eyes fly open, and she can't help the smile that breaks across her cheeks. Oh, Spirits—would she ever, could she ever forget how they met? Could she ever forget how even from across the room, he was enticing, and she had to try pointedly hard to not let her gaze stray? Could she ever forget how it felt the first time she heard that sinful voice, the first time she looked into those beautiful blue eyes of his, and without being able to understand her feelings, called for Naga and feigned disgust?
Could she ever forget that?
That, which feels like years into the past in her memory, but is really only a few months?
Korra's not as eloquent with her words as Tahno, not quite as musical with her thoughts, so instead she rolls her eyes, as if it's absolutely ridiculous that she'd ever forget (because really, it is. Even if they part ways, even if, after tonight, she never sees him again, she'll always remember how they met—she'll always remember his dauntless courage, always remember how he didn't fawn over Avatar Korra, and even mocked her title when they first met) the circumstance, and says;
"Of course I remember, Tahno." She tosses attitude affectionately into the words, her fingers pressing a bit harder into the fabric of his shirt sleeve and the muscle beneath it.
"Well then," He matches her tone, but with a certain finesse that Korra will never be able to imitate. "Think hard and remember the doll that had been draped beneath my arm, Darling."
It takes Korra a moment—she can picture everything from that day, right down to the lopsided collar of Tahno's jacket—and if she thinks hard enough, oh Spirits! She can recall Tahno sauntering in with the messy red curls and glossy lips of Fei at his side.
And if Tahno had looked down, he would've been able to watch Korra's eyes turn green.
"Oh," She pouts, and squeezes her eyes shut. "I kind of forgot about the whole playboy thing," She murmurs, almost embarrassed by her own behavior, because she's acting childish all of the sudden, and she knows it—but she really can't help it.
It hadn't really bothered her—Tahno's popularity and all of the dizty girls fawning over him—when they had entered the restaurant, because she didn't know any of those girls, and they were of no threat to her.
But Fei? Pretty, girly, so wonderfully Republic City, Fei? With her messy curls and deliberately throaty voice?
Korra clings a bit tighter to him.
Tahno, always so in tune with Korra's emotions, smiles at her outburst, and shakes her from his side, only to arrange himself to face her. She's looking at him, but he fits his fingers beneath her chin anyway, and with bated breath, stares completely through her bright eyes.
He can feel her shiver beneath his gaze, and almost involuntarily, she leans closer to him, and Tahno wonders why anybody would need alcohol, when he can get so drunk off of her. His gaze doesn't stay at her eyes however, for he's always had somewhat of an oral fixation, and her lips are just too pretty for him to not traces with his eyes.
"Don't be jealous, Darling," Tahno purrs out his words, voice lowered an octave because they're so close, he can afford to save his songs. Korra's teeth sink into her lower lip, and she directs her gaze to the side, her cheeks going red.
"I'm not jealous," She mutters, and though he knows her words are supposed to be taken with defiance, Tahno can't help but find her incredibly adorable.
He draws even closer to her, until their breath is shared, her inhale is his exhale, and she's faced with no choice but to look at him, with those kohl lined eyes that seem to read her as if she's a page in a book. His lips are so, so close, and if she were to move just a bit—
Tahno beats her to it, and presses his lips to hers, his tongue peeking out to drag across her lower lip. Korra's arms find themselves draping around his neck, her wrists loosely hanging over one another behind his head, and, no stranger to his games, she parts her lips and lets her tongue flirt with hers, before drawing away only a slight amount—far enough to catch his lower lip between her teeth, and the new angle of her head makes their noses brush in such a way that isn't exactly graceful, but neither of them seem to be bothered by it.
It takes Korra a moment to realize that his hands are on her her cheeks, holding her as if she isn't close enough, and is going to flutter away from him—and it's this that prompts her to pull away and break the kiss, though he makes no move to let go of her, instead, his thumbs begin to rub soft circles against the highs of her cheekbones.
She releases his neck, one of her hands wrapping around his wrist, her fingers pressing against the snow white of his skin, the other coming to rest on his chest, her fingers absently toying with a smooth black button on his shirt, her eyes following the movement of her fingers.
"Don't be jealous," He repeats again, but this sounds less like a teasing remark, and more like an apology falling from his lips. And maybe it is, Tahno thinks. Maybe he is apologizing—apologizing for withholding himself from her, apologizing for everything he was in the past, and everything he lacks now—months of pain are caked upon his tongue—but all he can say is don't be jealous.
And Korra—Korra's eyes still don't stray from the button on his shirt, but that doesn't stop her from feeling the full weight of his words—doesn't stop her from wanting to apologize—but she can't. She isn't good with her words, so she can't tell him that she's sorry she pushes him so much, she can't say she's sorry she can't read him and feel him as well as he feels her, and she can't tell him that it's okay—that she understands and that she could never be upset with him, even if she tried.
She can't say any of this, so instead, she says, without meeting his eyes, "I'm not jealous."
Had she looked up, Korra would've been able to count the stars, one by one, in his eyes.
this would've happened sooner if rap monster didn't drop his mixtape tbh
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