If you didn't catch it in the description, WARNING: suicide

It still felt unreal. He had tried to tell himself that it was just a bad dream, that he'd wake up in the morning and roll over to see her sleeping beside him, but as the days passed it wasn't possible to believe anymore. It had come out of nowhere. It had been just another day, and he'd been looking forward to spending a quiet evening with her as he walked home. He'd picked up some seaweed noodles from the marketplace. She always liked those. And then he'd opened the door and... there she was.

He'd known already that it was hopeless, but he did everything he could think of for her. It was all for nothing. The question he'd asked himself, the one he wished he could ask her, was 'why?' What had he done to bring her to this? Had she given him a clue that she was anything less than happy? That night he hadn't slept. He'd stared at the ceiling as he lay in bed reliving their days together and searching for any hint, any sign of what she'd planned to do.

The following days had been numb and hollow. He stumbled through the tasks of everyday life, hardly seeing what he was doing. He'd always told her that he'd protect her. She didn't need to worry about anything. He was there for her. He loved her. He hadn't cried for a long time, not until one day he was working in the kitchen and he unthinkingly turned to ask her to hand him the paring knife. That was a bad night.

He hadn't been able to sleep for more than one or two hours at a time since it happened. He woke up sweating from bad dreams. He'd get up and pace the room, trying not to look at the empty place on the bed next to where he slept. Even in the dreams he couldn't get an answer from her. He asked her why she did it, but she never answered. He begged her to tell him, but she only looked at him with sad accusing eyes.

Korra, why? Please. Korra. Korra. What did I do? Korra, I love you.