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Lin flexed and stretched under the covers. The warmth flooded her with a sense of well-being she still relished, after so many years. The knowledge that Kya was right there on the other side of the bed brought a smile to her heart. She curled up against herself, imagining what it would feel like to roll over and slink up behind her wife.
She smiled, her eyes still closed, her face hidden even from Kya.
A smile only for herself. Nestling the feeling away in her heart, where it would wait for those moments when she needed it.
One breath. Two breaths.
A deep inhale and a stretch.
She rolled over, but the other side of the bed was empty.
Lin frowned. This sigh was deflating.
Her face fell.
Another overnight at the hospital, I guess.
She leaned forward and shifted her legs to drop her feet to the floor.
A memory flashed over her and she groaned, stretching one arm across her body as if she ached from head to foot. She clenched her other elbow as her head drooped.
One breath. Two breaths. Three breaths.
That was a long time ago. She was healthy, warm, and loved. She closed her eyes and steeled herself to start the day. Her to-do list wouldn’t to-do itself. Kya was counting on her to get things done.
The morning started as so many others did. A workout and a shower were followed by breakfast and a review of her list.
She needed to make a trip to her storage unit to clean out the last few pieces from the estate and see them to their new locations. Opal was waiting for a few nursery items. She had promised to meet Korra and Bolin for lunch. She would need to stop by the market for the fresh vegetables she’d need to make dinner.
As she entered the stairs, she heard a phone ring in one of the other units.
She told herself it was just mis-placed self-importance that tickled her intuition.
The cloud cover outside boded ill for the loading she would be doing, but maybe it wasn’t raining out in the district where her unit was.
The rain was certainly causing enough problems in her own area, though. It took her three tries to find an unflooded path away from the city center. One half-hour lost.
She turned onto the out-bound thoroughfare, only to be confronted by flags and warning signs. Massive equipment with Future Industries logos were crawling with employees in Cabbage Corp greens. She crouched behind the wheel as two of her officers tried to direct traffic away from the mess. They were patiently explaining the situation to a red-faced executive. She made a note to inquire after them when she made it back to the office.
She meekly followed the other vehicles queued for the detour to leave town. Another half-hour lost.
One breath. Two breaths. Three breaths.
Traffic relaxed, the rain lifted. She almost smiled.
Her smile vanished entirely when she arrived at the front office only to see a barely legible sign in the window.
Staff Sick
Come Back Tomorrow
We think
Another hour lost.
One breath. Two breaths. Three breaths. Four breaths.
Any competent earthbending child could repair the cracks in the car park.
Probably.
The rain descended as if making up for lost time. Traffic crawled on its way into the city. At this rate, she would be late for a lunch she hadn’t wanted to agree to in the first place.
One breath. Two breaths. Three breaths. Four breaths.
At least she found parking near the restaurant. Not that the meter was working, but at least her lack of pocket change didn’t bite her in the ass. This time.
Another note to track down the traffic manager and have it looked at. Tomorrow. Not today.
Her conscience only flared.
It didn’t really bother her.
Not really.
One breath. Two breaths.
She opened the door, only to have Bolin nearly flatten her as he blundered out with an armful of takeout.
She pointed back inside with a confused look.
“Sorry, Chief! The President had a thing and I’m late getting back! Sorry!”
She was left holding the door as he sprinted away.
Only to realize he had been running in the wrong direction. His pivot nearly plastered some poor citizen who started yelling at him. Lin waved Bolin on his way, then brought the poor fellow over to the restaurant and bought his lunch.
One breath. Two breaths.
As she paid, Korra stomped inside. Her face was a match for Lin’s own. When she laid eyes on Lin, her face softened into apology. Her explanation washed over Lin, leaving nothing but a vague impression. Lin clapped her on the shoulder and sent her on her way.
One breath. Two breaths.
She turned back inside to collect a takeout container before walking the two blocks back to her…
Her Satomobile.
That had two new stripes.
Two silvered, parallel stripes from the bottom left corner of the passenger door up to the rear view mirror.
Matching her face.
Her blood ran cold.
One two three four five six seven eight nine ten
One breath.
One breath. Two breaths. Three breaths.
She stepped closer to the building, making sure her right cheek was at least obscured by its bulk and shadow.
One breath. Two breaths.
Quietly, she bent her right leg, stomping her left foot down on the sidewalk. There, in the basement access to the building across the street, she found three young men who suddenly knew they were looking at serious trouble.
The entire afternoon was lost in booking and forms and interrogations and statements, even before she could take her poor car to the mechanic.
His commiserations and reassurances assuaged her mood ever so slightly. She left him too much money, buying silence as much as skill.
One breath. Two breaths. Three breaths. Four breaths.
The cab ride was rough and noisy and smelly. How people smoked, she would never understand. And inside a cab? Maybe Councilman Kornak would welcome a new special cause to pursue.
One breath.
But no more until she could get out of this cab.
Stepping out of the cab, she nearly bent double trying to inhale fresh air.
One breath. Two breaths. Three breaths. Four breaths.
She looked up at the hospital, and smiled at finally seeing Master Katara General Health Center in bright blue lettering above the entryway.
One breath. Two breaths.
Kya would be inside.
She smiled.
One deep breath.
Thirty-seven steps to the front desk.
Kya was not inside.
Kya had left just a little early, thanks to a cancellation. She had carried home a full satchel of publications, indicating she would be at home, preparing for her conference presentation later in the week.
Lin sighed.
One breath. Two breaths.
Thirty-seven steps back to the curb.
One thousand seven hundred and fifty-four steps home.
The door opened silently.
Lin removed her boots and slid on her slippers.
The kitchen table looked like she had been investigating either a bloody murder or an art smuggling ring. Kya’s glasses were swinging from one hand as the other picked out a chart from a book at the limits of her reach. Those bright eyes glanced at Lin, barely flickering. Takeout was waiting on the countertop, still almost warm.
***
Kya nodded with satisfaction. She sorted the papers, rolled the scrolls, and stacked the books. Her manuscript needed one more re-write, but her notes were complete. Her address was all but ready. She stretched, stood, and stretched again. She cleaned up her tea.
When she realized Lin wasn’t reading in the living room, she frowned. With a tilt to her head, she listened for sounds either of a workout or a shower.
Instead, she heard …
Crying?
She caught her breath and nearly ran for the bedroom.
Lin lay, curled on her side, wrapped around Kya’s pillow.
Kya felt her face fall as she hurried to kneel on Lin’s side of the bed. Lin’s eyes were screwed up tightly, her tears sliding sideways down to the sheets, her breaths harsh.
One breath. Two breaths. Three breaths. Four breaths.
Five breaths.
A breath held.
Lin’s frown was deep, the tension nearly locked into her muscles. Kya was nearly afraid to touch her. But she brought her hands up to cup Lin’s face.
She felt Lin lean into her grasp, felt the shudders as Lin tried not to let the sobs escape.
One breath. Two breaths. Three breaths.
A ruined day took only minutes to tell. Kya stroked her cheeks, kissed her forehead. Slowly, Lin brought her hand up to lay across Kya’s arm.
“But then you barely looked at me when I got home.”
One breath. Two breaths.
“I knew you’d stop what you were doing if I asked, but I knew what you were working on. I couldn’t interrupt you.”
Kya’s eyebrows knit in distress. “Love, I didn’t know.”
Lin huffed angrily. “I know that. I said that.”
She stopped and closed her eyes.
“I just wanted you.”
She choked back a sob.
“So much went wrong today, and I couldn’t even ask you for what I needed.”
Kya lifted the covers, and pushed Lin backwards just enough. One arm here, the other there, and Lin was curled against her chest, sobbing softly. Kya pressed her chin against Lin’s head and stroked her hair.
Lin flexed and clenched under the covers. The warmth flooded her with a sense of well-being she did not recognize. The knowledge that Kya was right there on this side of the bed brought a rush of comfort. She curled up against herself, absorbing what it felt like to curl up into her wife.
She relaxed, her eyes still closed, her face hidden even from Kya.
A release only for herself. Nestling the feeling away in her heart, where it would wait for those moments when she needed it.
One breath. Two breaths.
A deep inhale and a squeeze.
She rolled over, melting into Kya’s loving embrace.
The next morning, they awoke, face to face.
And they smiled.