Bruises

Summary: The bruises bloom all over his skin

Rating: T (maybe?)

Genre: Romance/Hurt/Comfort

Pairing: Makorra

Author's Notes: I wanted to write Makorra, alright? Alright.

Story Notes: Takes place after the finale of course and everyone's still in the South Pole.

Korra listens patiently for the sound of approaching footfalls. Her spot on Mako's bed is not uncomfortable, but man is she bored (There are only so many times one can do the marble trick and still find it amusing). She falls back into the pillows, throwing her arms out, and looks around the generic guest room. To her left she notices a familiar red article of clothing folded up neatly on the bedside table. Smiling, she pushes herself up with her elbow and reaches over to feel the material. It's soft and warm just like the first time she wore it.

The door suddenly opens and Mako walks in with a smile on his face, carrying a large amount of clean clothes, "Hey, you." He says as he deposits the laundry at the foot of the bed.

Korra sits up and beams at the young firebender boy, "It's good to see you finally, Cool Guy. I was waiting."

"I was only gone for fifteen minutes; I had to get these things off the line in case it rains." He reaches for a familiar green tunic and folds it properly.

She chuckles, "You know it doesn't rain here right? The extreme cold freezes the water vapor out of the air."

Mako blushes, clearly embarrassed by his lack of knowledge about the South Pole, "I had to get these off the line before they became frozen, is that better?"

Korra rolls her eyes playfully, "Much. Can I help you?"

"You know how to fold correctly?" Mako asks as he sorts some socks into piles.

She snatches a shirt, "It's not that hard right? I mean, just put it together, like this." The shirt is baggy and she tries grasping the sleeves, but the creases won't match up. Attempting to fold it in half is a debacle in its own.

Mako laughs under his breath, amused at her endeavors, "Here, let me show you." He holds up his own piece of clothing to demonstrate. Giving it a good shake, he lines up the sleeves and presses them together seamlessly. Then, pressing the garment against his chest, he drops the top half over the lower, folding it completely. "There. Simple."

"Easy for you, 'Mama Mako', I clearly have no redeeming housewife qualities." She huffs, balling up the shirt and throwing it across the room onto the ground.

"I just cleaned that! Don't wrinkle it! And don't call me 'Mama Mako', it's emasculating." Mako pouts as he swivels around, heading to retrieve the shirt.

Korra gasps as he turns, noticing large purple and green stains intermingle on his skin. Bruises.

Mako bends down and swipes the cloth from the ground, when he faces Korra, her expression is distraught and upset, the opposite of what it was just a moment ago.

He rushes over to her side, forgetting about the shirt, "Korra? What's wrong? Did I do something?" He places his hands on her shoulders and presses lightly.

Trying to catch her breath, Korra reaches up her fingers and rests them on his. Mako looks at her with questioning eyes, his breath uneven.

"I'm sorry." Korra mumbles, tears threatening to falter her vision.

Mako kneels in front of her, "What are you apologizing for? You've done nothing wrong." His fingers interlace with hers and he brings her knuckles to his lips, brushing them softly.

"I'm sorry you've gotten so hurt because of me." Her voice is ragged. She can't meet his gaze and screws her eyes tight.

"Korra, I'm perfectly fine, please don't worry." Mako bends his head into her lap and exhales. Korra looks down and can clearly see the contusions blooming across his body and peeking out from under his shirt.

"You're not, you have bruises. From when Amon slammed you into the walls." She mumbles, detaching a hand and tracing a mottled patch of skin gently.

Mako shivers, "They don't even hurt."

Korra stops, "Can I see them? Will you show me what I've done?"

His face rises and looks her directly in the eye, "You are not the one who put these bruises on my back, Korra. Amon did. It was my choice to go with you and I accepted whatever would happen. But I'm fine now, I'm here with you. Alive and safe. We're fine, we're together and I love you."

She drags in a breath, "Will you still show them to me?"

Mako lets go of her fingers and leans back on his heels, "Only if you promise not to be upset."

Korra slides off the bed, settling behind Mako and grips the hem of his shirt. Excruciatingly slowly, Korra lifts the fabric from against his skin and peels it off his body. When it's completely removed, she tries not to make a sound at the sight before her.

Dark colors taint his ivory skin, the intermingling shades of blue and green and purple running up and down his sides. The contusions make jagged shapes, varying in intensity. It looks awful and painful and Korra can't help but feel worse.

Hesitantly, she brings her face forwards and oh so lightly ghosts her lips over his back. She can feel Mako shudder beneath but she keeps going. Her mouth follows a deliberate path that traces its way over his shoulders and to his neck.

"I will never let anyone hurt you ever again." She whispers into his skin, placing a kiss against him on untainted flesh. "I swear it."

Mako leans back into her, pressing into her chest, hands resting on her thighs. Her arms instinctively wrap around his midsection, "And I promise to always protect you." He murmurs, turning his neck to rest his face against her shoulder, his lips pressing against her throat.

And they stay like that for a long time.