Behalf

He knows she's beyond this lifetime. She's beyond him and the incognizant life he's scrapped together. But he knows he'll die a thousand different lifetimes if it means each time they would be together.

Assistance

"Poor baby," she coos, rubbing one hand over his freshly wounded head (she's at fault here. She was the one who slammed it against the locker). He lets out a soft groan, still burning, still reeling from the brutal hand down the front of his trouser and the tongue on his neck. "I'll help you with that," she whispers, running sloppy kisses across his jaw.

Idle

It's the look Bolin dotes on Asami when she's flying down the racetrack. The quiet one shared between Tenzin and Pema when they're doing the dishes after dinner. It's the sparkle in her father's eyes when her mother laughs.

It's the look Mako gives her when he thinks no ones looking, as if he's set himself to be alone and wanting for the rest of his life.

Gravitation

Everything in her is screaming for defeat. The rain that mixes with her blood stings her skin raw, and her mind repeats, fall, fall, fall … but one look at the defeated bender in her arms makes her heart chant, fight, fight, fight ….

Afterthought

He kisses her sweaty temple, silently berating himself for forgoing protection in the heat of things. She shakes him out of his thoughts with her quiet hum of satisfaction, the heady scent of sex dies down, and all he can't bring himself to be remorseful because all he can think about – if it ever happens - is how perfectly his hand would fit over the curve of her swollen belly.

Unearth

They've managed to sleep in fifteen minutes till their allotted gym time (how was that even possible? He'd set three alarm clocks!) Suddenly, the three of them are a flock of pigkens with their heads chopped off making a mad scramble around the apartment. Arm pads, helmets, practice t-shirts are flung to one another. Mako tosses Bolin a cold bun, and Korra sweeps past him, arms full of gear, and snatches the one in Mako's hands with her mouth.

He allows himself to be stunned for half a second, but shakes it off, blaming the chaos of morning, and plops his own bun into his mouth, pulling his sock on with the other.

Havoc

It's one of those fights that escalates to screaming. The screaming prompts the name calling, and the name calling catapults into the various smashed objects between them.

Finally, Korra throws her hands up in the air, because Spirits, he's frustrating and she's fed up. "That's it, Hot Head. You. Me. Agni Kai. Meet me outside in ten minutes."

Tidings

"Uh …. Thanks?"

He would have casually tossed … whatever it was aside and leave it forgotten, if it weren't for two things. One: Korra's hurt feelings would manifest as physical violence and he would expect a nice blue and purple shiner the next morning. Two: She just looked so damned please with herself; all bright eyed and beaming because "Look, Mako! I made this for you. Do you like it? Do you like it? Do you like it?"

He bit back his smile, shaking his head. That clever (his clever) idiot.