Chapter Text
It had been only two days, and Korra hated herself. She hated herself for giving into his persistent advances, for joining him in the shower room after the rest of the task force had long gone home, for enjoying every last minute of their time together. He hadn’t been her first, of course. She’d never give someone like him her first time. But it had been a couple of years, after all, and, she’d rationalized, a girl has needs, right?
So she’d joined him in the showers, and as the warm water sprayed down on both of them, she’d heard her own moans echo off the tile walls.
She thought, after that, that she was satisfied. That it was finished. She’d gotten it out of her system, given in for one debauched evening, had her fun. And with a man twice her age. Her mother would have a fit if she knew.
But now, two nights later, she was lying awake and listening to the rain patter against her bedroom windows and she remembered the sound of the water hitting the tile and her own gasps as he rocked up against her like the tide on the rocks –
Son of a bitch.
Ten minutes later, she was on her personal little boat heading away from Air Temple Island, bending her way swiftly and deftly through the waves and rain. She had no fear, like Tenzin did, of travelling the waters in a storm.
As soon as she hit land, she hailed a cab. She knew where his villa was, and paid the driver extra to keep his mouth shut and not ask any questions. She could afford it. This once.
It was well past midnight when she arrived. The doorman would certainly have gone to bed by now, but that didn’t much bother her. She was a great climber, and made her way in and up the wall with no trouble, earth-bending out little footholds as needed. It was easy to tell which room was his bedroom – just find the spot on an upper floor with the best view. Sure enough, as she peered through the window, she could see him alone in an extravagantly decorated room, looking so strangely small in his large bed.
She slipped the window open quietly, and just as quietly rid herself of her wet clothes before slipping under the silken sheets beside him.
He awoke as soon as he felt the extra pressure upon the mattress.
“This is breaking and entering,” he mumbled, sleep still clinging to him and making everything hazy.
“Deal with it.” She was straddling him now, one hand yanking down his waistband and the other balanced on his chest for support.
“And this could probably be considered sexual assault.”
“Bring me up on charges, then, councilman.” She shifted her weight, and he was awake enough now to help her find her way.
He let out a low laugh.
“Shut up,” she muttered, and he conceded.
There was no noise after that except for the soft creaking of the bedframe, and the sound of the rain. Their climax was swallowed up in thunder. He could see her, suddenly illuminated in the lightning, glowing and glorious and terrible as any Avatar out of legend.
And then it was dark again, and she was an exhausted girl in his arms.
“Get some rest,” he murmured to her. She said nothing, lying there on top of him, and so he let sleep embrace him once again.
When Tarrlok next opened his eyes, his bed was empty, the window was open, and the sun was shining in to dry the rain up off the ruined carpet.