They stare at each other from either side of the open door, he dressed in a faded vest and loose pants, her shivering beneath a jacket that's been dripping rainwater up the steps to his apartment.
"C-Can I come in?" Korra asks, teeth chattering.
Mako frowns. "You'd better," he says, "before you catch a cold."
Her step forward across the threshold takes Korra back three years into the past. The apartment has hardly changed. She could probably still pinpoint every last piece of worn, cheap furniture with her eyes closed. Mako was never one for form over function. If it isn't broken why cut a chunk out of his monthly wages replacing it? Arguably because it would make a much better impression on the girl he'd be bringing home, though when Korra said exactly that it hadn't mattered. But that was so long ago.
"Give me this," Mako says, coming up behind her after pushing the apartment door shut.
His voice and its proximity give Korra a small jump, one Mako doesn't seem to notice as he catches her jacket by the sodden collar. Her arms and back are left damp in its absence as Mako helps her shrug out of it, and then Korra is left to stand in the middle of the apartment, hugging herself for warmth. Mako returns in short order with a large towel, having hung up the jacket over the bath to drip dry.
"Here," he says quietly, and standing in front of her drapes the thick, grey towel around Korra's shoulders.
She looks down, at the familiar hands clutching makeshift lapels just above her chest, then up at the face dimly lit by a shaded lamp standing atop a small table beside an old couch; the apartment's sole light source. Mako's sharp, prominent eyebrows are knitted together in concern, his eyes unblinkingly focused on hers and Korra find herself moving forward just a tiny bit, so that his hands can come into contact with her body. And so hers can rise tentatively to his chest, feeling a plain of muscle beneath thin cotton. He is warm, so much warmer than the towel wrapped around her.
"Hold me," Korra hears herself murmur. He does, but not the way she expects.
Rather than strong, comforting arms folding around her body, drawing her into that space right now Korra sorely craves, Mako carefully slips his hands around her wrists. "I don't think I should," he tells her. "Not the way you want me to."
She is confused. "But, I need you."
Mako shakes his head. "What you need is a hot cup of cocoa. Have a seat," he says, indicating the couch, "I'll get you some."
"Asami's called here a few times, trying to find out where you are," Mako says as he hands her a steaming mug. "Apparently Lin won't say a word to her beyond 'witness protection'."
Korra brings the cocoa to her lips, looking over the rim of the mug. "Why would you know?"
"Because I work with, or at least under, Lin," Mako replies, taking a seat on the low, scuffed coffee table opposite her, "and she's been dedicating as much of the force as she can to finding and stopping the Equalists."
"Did you know?"
"I know the basic details of Kuvira's house arrest, but nothing about you, after what happened."
Korra nods. "I don't want to talk to Asami right now. I asked Lin not to tell her anything."
"Huh," Mako says, rubbing his jaw, "then I wonder what I did to deserve the same treatment."
He isn't quite glaring at her, as Korra lowers the mug from her lips, but his gaze is unavoidable. Amber eyes pull hers back to them, no matter how Korra tries looking away.
"You haven't spoken to me since Varrick's wedding," Mako says, filling the silence when she fails to. "You didn't even tell me you planned on disappearing into the Spirit World for a month."
"I – We didn't plan that. It...it was a spur of the moment sort of thing."
"But what about after you came back?" Mako asks. "Did I do something wrong, Korra?"
"No, of course not," she says earnestly. "It's just, a lot of things changed. Things were different. I..thought it'd be good to have some space, you know? I just didn't mean to leave it that long."
"Like how you ignored all my letters for three years?"
"I didn't ignore them," Korra mumbles. She has to look away then, her eyelids heavy as she blinks. "I read your letters almost every day. I missed you."
"From where I was standing, Korra, it didn't look that way," Mako replies quietly.
She closes her eyes, making an effort to steady her breath. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, okay? I...couldn't. I just couldn't, and I can't now. I can't...I can't feel the air around me. I can't feel the earth underneath my feet. I couldn't feel the rain even though it was soaking me right through to the bone. And this cocoa, it's so hot it burns my tongue and I still feel cold inside."
Mako frowns. "Oh. Sorry about that -"
Korra waves off his apology. "It's not your fault. It's..."
But who is to blame? Whose fault is it? Asami's? Kuvira's?
Her own?
"I don't know," Korra says, trailing off as she fails to answer her own question. Perhaps this is just Fate. Perhaps this is what she deserves.
"It's getting late," Mako says then. "Like I said, I don't know the details, but I probably don't qualify as witness protection."
Korra sniffs. "Lin wouldn't mind, if I stayed here overnight."
Mako looks at her for a long moment. "I don't know about that..."
"Please? I can't go back there, not tonight."
"Where is there?" Mako asks, brow curiously arched.
Korra considers her too-hot cocoa. "I probably shouldn't tell you, right?"
"No, probably not. If the Equalists turn up here in the middle of the night, it's best I don't know where I've bought time for you to run off to."
Korra stares at him. "I can't tell if you're joking."
"My jokes always went over your head," Mako replies, shaking his. "But I was being serious, for the record."
"So I can stay?" Korra says. "I don't mind sleeping on the couch. I was just starting to get used to Asami's after all."
Mako frowns again. "Why were you sleeping on her couch instead of...?" But then he catches himself, and his cheeks darken in the process. "Actually, nevermind. And no, I won't let you sleep on the couch."
"But -"
"Korra, you're the Avatar," Mako cuts in, rising to his feet, "and despite three and a half years of no contact, I still consider you one of my best friends. You can have my room tonight."
For the first time in days, Korra eventually manages a small smile.
She is roused by a familiar smell, the sharp scent of coffee. Much really hasn't changed after all these years; Mako still prefers his brew strong. Korra wonders if he evens bothers to add milk these days.
She finds herself curled up near the foot of his bed, not so much a surprise to Korra. As she slips under the covers and lays a head to his pillow, her skin prickles uncomfortably. Even when she tucks her hands protectively into her chest. Because the headrest looms over her, a phantom whose shadow seems to slowly sway in the dark each time Korra glances up at the wall above her. It's in no way as intricate in design, just simple, evenly spaced bars of metal, but that is more than enough to unnerve Korra.
More than enough to remind her what had occurred only hours before.
Her sleep was intermittent, restless, plagued with tossing, turning and long stretches of staring off into the dark corners of the room. Every moment of her head against the pillow she takes with her to the foot of the bed is accompanied by the bristly sound of roughly shaven hair. She can't help but run a hand over it, slowly, mournfully. Now, as she rises, sitting up on the bed, Korra rubs at her wrists.
Morning light streaming in through cracks in the blinds makes the pink rings around them much more visible. Mako somehow hadn't noticed them the night before. Korra plans to keep it that way. She steps into the adjacent bathroom, hoping to wash away bad memories. The warm spray of the shower however, pelting down on hunched shoulders, only serves to remind Korra of the things she has lost. Once upon a time she could have returned her skin to its natural tone, gently healing her wounds in moments. Now, she would be stuck with the scars. Perhaps for the rest of her life.
Korra hears Mako's telephone ring through the bedroom door, pushed shut while she dries herself off. She thinks nothing of it as she drops the towel and reaches for her clothes. When Korra hears him answer it however, she forgets her panties are halfway pulled up and almost falls flat on her face rushing to the door.
"Korra? Yeah, funnily enough..."
Mako pauses as a flustered looking face appears in a crack in the bedroom door. Korra shakes her head emphatically as their eyes meet, because she hears the mention of one particular name she certainly, absolutely, does not want to talk to when Mako greets the caller. He doesn't seem to get the message, apparently.
"She's here," Mako says, finishing his sentence. "...No, I'm not. Yes, Asami, I realise this isn't something to joke about...I am being serious! Look, do you want me to get her or not? Alright then. Korra!"
He doesn't really need to raise his voice, the apartment is a small one and very little distance separates Mako's bedroom from the main living space. It's mainly to let Korra know the gig is up when her face disappears from the crack in the door and she begins throwing on her clothes in a desperate bid to get out of the apartment before Mako can turn over the conversation. All decidedly in vain as she hops on the spot, trying to shove her right foot into the wrong boot.
"Korra," Mako calls again, and the springs of his bed whine as she drops down onto it in defeat, "Asami's on the phone. She wants to speak to you."
She glares at him upon sullenly emerging from the bedroom. "What are you doing?" Korra hisses.
Mako holds out the receiver. "Making sure you don't leave it too long."
She looks at him, things unspoken crossing his eyes, and then hers turn to the telephone. She takes first a deep breath, and then afterwards the receiver.
"Asami."
"Korra? Korra! Oh, you don't how glad I am to hear your voice. Where have you been? When I went back to the hospital they told me you were discharged, so I went to speak to Lin but getting anything out of her was like drawing blood from a stone. Tenzin didn't seem to know anything when I spoke to him last and Mako – bless him, he must be so fed up of me by now – he's the only one actually helping me try and find you." Breathless, Asami suddenly falls silent. "...Um, Korra?"
Her grip is tight around the receiver. "I'm still here."
"Korra, I'm...I'm so sorry. I know it won't mean much to you, me saying it like this. That's why I want to see you. I need to talk to you, properly."
She swallows, a lump sliding down her throat, and doesn't say anything.
"Please, Korra," Asami begs her. "We can meet wherever you want."
She can't help but glance towards Mako, who stands nearby with his arms folded and an expression worn that almost suggest he can hear the conversation first-hand. Korra sighs heavily, rubbing at her eyes. And tugging down the sleeve of her jacket, freshly dried, when the cuff begins to slip.
"Okay."
"Great!" Asami replies, with all the enthusiasm of a woman who'd just confirmed a dinner date. Evidently she realises the tone might be a little too exuberant, clearing her throat and continuing more soberly. "I mean, thank you, Korra, really. After...after everything, this means so much to me."
"Right."
"So, um, where would you like to meet?"
Korra thinks about it for a moment. "The park."
"Isn't that a bit too open?" Asami replies. "I thought you were in witness protection. That's all Lin would tell me."
"I'll run it past her, should be fine."
"...Okay. Okay. How about in an hour, can you do that?"
"Sure."
"Okay," Asami says again, and then takes a deep breath herself. "I've really missed you. I hope...I hope we can -"
"I'll see you there," Korra cuts in, and she can feel her hand starting to shake. "Bye."
She gives the receiver back to Mako, shoving her hands into her pockets as he takes it with a questioning look on his face. "We're meeting in Republic City Park," she tells him.
Mako nods, placing the telephone back down on the table beside the couch. "I hope it goes well. Really, I do."
"Thanks," Korra mutters, turning towards the apartment door. She pauses, then looks back. "For everything, you know?"
"I know," Mako says, "but let another three years go by and I'll be hard pressed to forgive you."
"I won't, I promise."
Mako smiles, then steps forward to embrace her. It makes her feel secure, warm on the inside where the flame of her bending used to burn. Thankfully, he doesn't seem to mind when Korra extracts her hands from her pockets and wraps her arms around him.
"Hey," she says quietly, resting against Mako's chest, "I just realised you haven't said anything about my hair."
"What's to say?" he replies. "Doesn't change who you are. Whether it's long, short, or not there at all, you're still Korra. Right?"
She closes her eyes, listening to his heartbeat. "...Right."
A/N: Thought I was done with this story. Sometimes one review can go a long way, so thanks Paru Cafe.