Chapter Text
You’re sitting in Korra’s backyard and you don’t know why because it’s hot and the summer air is making your hands sweat and your socks are sticking to your toes and it’s actually really uncomfortable. She’s sitting down and leaning against an apple-less apple tree smoking a cigarette and her lips are puckered around the end and every time she takes a drag her collarbones become more visible. She’s in a baggy white t-shirt and it keeps slipping off her shoulder and you’re trying not to stare, but then you notice there’s a cut on her knee that’s speckled with gravel and blood.
“What happened there,” you ask pointing at the cut.
Her eyebrows crinkle a little bit and her big blue eyes are squinting and you think she looks way too fucking cute, “Oh, I tripped. At least I think—honestly it could’ve been anything—the point is my knee made contact with the ground.” She takes another drag still looking at you with her impossibly blue eyes. You squirm a little bit because there are patches of light coming in from between leaves and branches and it’s making her eyes glimmer a little bit and she looks beautiful with smoke flowing around her face.
“You should probably get it cleaned up,” you say nudging her bicep and you flinch a little because you sometimes forget how muscular she is.
She shrugs and tilts her head in your direction, “Maybe, it’s not that big of a deal.” Korra taps the end of the cigarette with her thumb and you watch the little bits of ash float to the ground like snowflakes. She goes to put it back in her mouth but you pluck the cigarette out from between her fingers and bring it to your lips as you smile at her. You try not to think about how you can taste chap stick or how kissing the cigarette is kind of like kissing her, so you take a long drag and breath out slowly and you watch the smoke stream past your lips.
She’s giving you a lopsided grin and her front tooth on the left side is slightly crooked, but it’s barely noticeable, and she has a dimple under her right eye and your heart is suddenly beating a little bit faster.
You don’t know when exactly you started to have feelings for Korra, she’s been your best friend since elementary school and you have always done everything together. When you look at her you think of climbing trees and warm beaches and shoplifting and sneaking into movies and bike rides and ice cream. You think that, even as a young girl, she was a force to be reckoned with; headstrong and impulsive and so brave and carefree and wild, with messy hair and scrapes and scratches and chewed up fingernails.
And it was kind of like one day she touched your arm or your hand or she looked at you a certain way and suddenly everything was different. Suddenly you were looking at her lips all the time and you noticed the sway of her hips and how her smile made you feel like you were going to throw up but in a good way. And you always knew Korra was really pretty, but then she became more than that; her eyes became your favorite color and when she touched you you thought your knees would give out and her laugh became your favorite sound and you wanted to be the one to induce it. When you’re with Korra everything feels right and you think about her more often than you should and you smile when she sends you text messages and you kind of just always want to be around her.
She takes the cigarette out of your fingers and smokes the rest of it and then she crushes it under her shoe. She taps her foot against your calf and gets up off the ground, “Come on, ‘Sami, it’s getting way too hot out here,” she says as she wipes her hands on the back of her shorts and extends a hand out to you. You take her hand and she helps you up in one fluid motion and she makes it look—like—ridiculously easy.
You follow her across the yard and through the sliding glass doors that lead into her living room. You’ve always liked Korra’s home because it actually feels like a home and it looks sort of old fashioned and it’s just all around nice. The walls are completely wood paneled except for a section that’s made of stone for the fireplace. There’s one couch and a love seat adjacent from each other and a coffee table in the middle and in between there’s a side table with—what you can only describe as—a stereotypical lamp. There are pictures lining the walls, mainly of Korra because she’s an only child, and there are old family photos and paintings and it’s a little hazy from the afternoon sun and it’s just comfy.
Korra plops herself on the couch and she’s half on it and half dangling; her right arm and her right leg are hanging off the side and her fingers are just barely grazing the carpet. You sit yourself down on the ground next to her and she starts to twirl a strand of your hair around her index finger and she looks so serious and she’s pouting a little bit and you wonder what she’s thinking about.
“Hey, ‘Sami?”
“Yeah?”
“What’s it like to be in love?”
The question kind of catches you off guard and you want to tell her it’s like jumping off a swing and its exciting and terrifying all at once, and you can’t really go back once you’ve let go. You want to tell her it’s blue eyes and a loud laugh and sneaking out with a beautiful girl but you don’t say any of that.
“I don’t know how to explain it,” you say looking at the ground as you pull on a small bit of the carpet. And you think it’s the end of the conversation but—
“Well, how do you know you’re in love?”
You look at her for a second trying to predict what she’s getting at, but Korra has never been predictable and she more or less says whatever is on her mind so even though she’s your best friend you have no idea why she’s asking.
“You know you’re in love when you put the other person’s happiness above your own—at least I think,” and when you’re done talking she’s giving you this look like she wants to say something else.
“Why,” the rest of the question is there on the tip of your tongue, you’re not sure if you want to hear the answer, but you ask anyway, “do you think you’re in love with Mako?”
Korra throws her arm over her face and you can see her smiling and blushing and being really cute and you wish that you were the one to make her act like that—but you’re not, because she’s with Mako and she’s your best friend.
“No,” she mumbles out and you let out a breath you never really realized you were holding, “I mean I really like him, but—I don’t know—love seems a bit extreme. But maybe I am—y’know—falling for him.”
Your chest kind of aches when she says that and there’s a small lump in your throat, but you knew this would come, you know that she’s with Mako and she has been for a few months now. And it doesn’t really matter whether you think they’re right for each other or not because Korra’s happy, or at least you think. But they fight a lot and Korra sometimes calls you when she’s fuming and she goes on about how infuriating he is, but she stays with him.
So, you ignore the ache in your chest and you say, “Well, you’ll know when you actually are in love, alright?” You give her the best smile you can muster and she goes back to playing with your hair and part of you wishes that being around Korra wasn’t this easy.
You and Korra are sprawled out on the couch and her legs are resting in your lap and she’s tracing patterns on your palm.
“Hit me with a fun fact, Sato,” she says giving you a goofy grin.
“All the clocks in Pulp Fiction are stuck on 4:20,” you say laughing a little bit because it’s actually really funny. Korra is giving you a really confused look and it seems for a second she doesn’t believe you. But then she bursts out laughing and you smile at the sound because it’s smooth and loud and when she laughs her entire body shakes and her eyes squint a little bit.
“Ok one more,” she says to you.
“Alright, it’s illegal to burp or sneeze during a church service in Nebraska.”
Korra’s laughing again and it’s so light you can’t help but laugh with her. But then you hear her front door opening and she leans up a little bit to see who it is. You hear Bolin talking—or shouting—about how who knows what. He and Opal walk into the living room and he’s still talking and Opal is looking at him with complete adoration and love and all that sappy shit, but it makes you happy because they’re good for each other. Opal walks over and hugs you from behind the couch and Bolin throws himself next to you and he’s huge, but he still manages to squeeze himself into a comfortable position without completely crushing you.
“What have you guys been doing,” Opal asks as she sits on the couch’s armrest.
“Absolutely nothing,” you say giving her a sarcastic smile.
Bolin puts his hand over his heart and makes a face, “And you didn’t even wait for us.”
You shove him and then you feel Korra scramble off of you and run back towards the front door. You peek over the couch and see her throw her arms around Mako’s neck and he has his hands on her hips and you feel sick all of a sudden. Opal is looking at you funny and Bolin is oblivious and Korra is kissing Mako and you just don’t really want to look at them right now.
“Yeah but we’re providing you with beer,” Korra says from behind you.
“Well we’re providing you with company,” Bolin says.
“I don’t know, Asami was good enough company.”
“Ouch, rude.” Bolin says laughing and Opal is still looking at you funny. Korra sits next to you and Mako sits on the floor between her legs and she’s running her hands through his hair and they’re smiling at each other and you think it’s really gross.
“I’ll go get the beer,” you say, to no one really and you get up as quickly as possible. You make your way into the kitchen and put both your hands on the green counter top and hang your head and take deep breaths.
You don’t really have anything against Mako, and maybe if you didn’t have a thing for Korra you would like them together, but that’s not really the case is it? You try not to be around them together because it hurts a little too much, and you notice when he does things that Korra doesn’t like. Sometimes he plays with her hair and you know she hates that unless her scalp is being scratched and his arms are too long to fit perfectly around her shoulders or waist.
You run your fingers through your hair and take one more deep breath. You grab the case of beer out of the fridge and walk back into the living room. Korra and Mako are sitting together on the love seat and Opal is sitting on the back of the couch and Bolin is sitting between her legs. Opal is putting rubber bands in his hair and it’s actually really cute and not gross. You put the case of beer on the coffee table and sit on the couch and you sit facing away from Korra and Mako with one leg tucked under you.
Bolin is opening your beer for you and Mako asks, “Give us a fun fact, Asami, Korra told us the ones you told her earlier.”
“Yeah,” Bolin says excitedly, “tell us a really weird one—or something gross—or dirty—or all of the above!”
“Alright,” you say laughing, “a pig’s orgasm lasts 30 minutes.”
The room is really quiet and Bolin’s face is scrunched up and Opal has stopped playing with his hair and you grin as you take a long drink from your beer.
“That’s amazing,” Bolin says quietly after a few moments.
“I dunno, man,” you hear Mako say behind you, “a thirty minute orgasm sounds tiring and a little stressful.”
“Are you crazy?!” Bolin is throwing his arms around and you’re wondering how he hasn’t spilled his beer yet or how he hasn’t pushed Opal over, “That would be incredible, oh my god.”
“No way, the reason an orgasm feels so good is because it only lasts a little bit, and it’s kind of, like, not something you feel all the time, ya know? It’s like the less you feel something the better it is when you do feel it.”
“No, Mako, but listen—a thirty minute orgasm. Thirty minutes! You can’t tell me that wouldn’t be amazing!”
“No,” Opal says, “Mako has a point.”
“My own girlfriend betraying me for my brother!”
“It’s alright Bolin, we can just blame Asami for tearing us apart,” Korra says and you can hear her smirking.
You whip your head around and raise an eyebrow at her, “Listen you guys asked for a fact; a weird, dirty and gross one, I might add.”
“Some friends you are,” Bolin pouts and Opal pats him on the head and you’re really happy that you’re friends with them because they’re actually really great.
You’re laughing and you hug Bolin’s head to your chest, “We love you Bolin,” and you kiss the top of his head and ruffle his hair.
“Yeah, whatever,” he says but he’s smiling and he pulls away from you to “fix” his hair. You really do love him though, he’s like your little brother and he’s the exact type of comic relief you need in your life. He always knows exactly what to say and when to say it when things seem wrong and he’s so childish and full of life you just have to smile when you look at him.
Korra suddenly gasps dramatically and leans forward in the couch, “Oh my god, Opal, you wanna hear about the time Asami almost got suspended in elementary school for rigging a swing to go all the way around.”
You laugh because Opal is looking at you in shock and because you remember how scared you were. Not because you were going to get in trouble but because Korra broke her left arm in three places, but she refused to cry because she didn’t want you to feel bad and she continuously told you that it was her fault, not yours.
You watch Korra tell the story excitedly and her eyes look like swimming pools lit up at night and the small indent of the dimple under her eye looks kind of like the curve of her lips. At this point the only thing you can focus on are her smiles lines that gently parenthesize her mouth and her crooked front tooth. You’re not really paying attention to what she’s saying, but then Opal is nudging your arm with her leg and Korra is looking at you with a lopsided grin.
“Yeah,” you say, “I felt so bad about her arm breaking that I cried when I saw her in her blue cast, and for, like, two weeks she had to tell me, ‘It’s not so bad, ‘Sams,’ and, ‘Don’t worry it was my fault.’”
You hope that you said the right thing and that Korra doesn’t notice that you weren’t paying attention. And you let out a breath because she’s laughing and you relax a little bit, but you see Opal looking at you funny again.
Bolin starts talking about the time you built makeshift racecars out of paint cans and planks of wood, but it’s hard to focus because you’re watching Korra again. She’s looking at Mako and her cheeks are rosy and they’re touching each other in three different places. His arm is around her and his index finger is drawing circles on her bare shoulder and suddenly you don’t want to be in the room anymore.
“I need a cigarette,” you mumble trying to get out as quickly as possible.
You make it outside and you take the cigarette from behind your ear and light it with shaking hands, you take a drag and breath in deep with a hiss and close your eyes. You feel like someone is dropping bombs in your stomach and all you’re being left with is debris and it’s not cold outside, but you’re shivering and you’re trying really hard to get Korra out of your head. You hear the sliding door open but you don’t look to see who is it because you’re scared it’s going to be her.
Opal loops her arm through yours and rests her head on your shoulder.
“You know,” she says, “you can’t keep hiding this.”
It makes you freeze because—yeah—you kind of thought she knew, but she never really said anything and hearing her say something out loud is a little nerve wracking.
“I don’t know what you mean,” you say taking another drag.
Opal snatches the cigarette out from between your lips and crushes it on the ground, “Listen, Sato, you might be able to hide it from everyone else, but you can’t hide it from me. Don’t play dumb, because you’re not.”
The afternoon sun is setting an orange glow around you and it’s warming your pale skin. You love Opal, you always have. She started going to school with you when you were a sophomore and she was a freshman and you guys sort of just clicked. You have only been friends for two years but she has the ability to read everyone and she’s a no bullshit kind of person so it’s—like—really hard to lie to her.
“I can’t very well tell her, can I?” You say looking at the sky instead of her.
“You can. But you won’t.”
“She’s happy, Ope. All I want is for her to be happy. I’m not going to take that away from her.”
“But what about you?” Her green eyes, that are so similar to your own, are looking straight into you, and for a second you’re afraid she somehow has the ability to read minds.
“If she’s happy then I’m happy.”
“I told you not to bullshit me.”
“It’s not entirely a lie,” and it’s true, yes you’d like to be with Korra, and it hurts to see her with someone else. But she seems happy, and really that’s all that matters—sort of.
Opal sighs next to you and hugs your arm a little tighter, “I’m sorry, ‘Sami.”
“Don’t be,” you say resting your cheek on the top of her head. You hear the sliding door open again and you look behind you to see Korra clumsily walk outside. She’s smiling and her cheeks are tinted red and she walks over to you and wraps her arms around your neck from behind. Your breath hitches a little and you relax into her and you already know that Opal is giving you that look again, but you don’t care.
You think that you’d let your heart break a thousand times over just to see Korra smiling like that again, even if it’s not because of you.
Eventually you make it back inside the house and everyone is sitting on the floor laughing and smoking and drinking. You’re a little tipsy and your face and stomach feel warm, but you feel better than you did before.
There’s a slow tune aching from the radio, by The XX, you think, and it’s a song about goodbyes. The room is hazy and your beer is kind of warm, but it’s the summer after high school and Korra’s head is in your lap and you can’t tell if she’s asleep of just really relaxed. The sunlight is streaming in from the windows and, for a moment, you think this summer is going to be the best you’re ever going to have.