Bosami- Silver Suits You

She dreaded going back home. Once the house had been fully searched, the underground tunnel fully excavated, and the paper work had been filed, Asami Sato was permitted to go back to her lonely estate.

This time there would be no father waiting at home for her. This time there would be no butlers. This time she would come home to an empty mansion full of broken dreams and buried memories. But that was fine by her; the memories could rot in the spirit world for all she cared.

Asami walked the halls, her footsteps slow and heavy with each movement of her long legs. The morning light leaked through the undraped windows- having never been covered since her father flocked to Amon's side. The light illuminated the marble floors and revealed the dust which lingered intimately on the drapes and table tops. Asami sighed as she watched some dust particles ascend to the windows- the sun providing more love than a desolate home.

Trudging to the room she had run to as a child, she stopped and stared at the double doors. Whenever she was scared Asami always fled to these doors and threw them open. Her parents –later her father- would allow her to crawl into bed and sleep with them until the nightmares went away.

This was the one nightmare they couldn't chase away.

Releasing a heavy puff of air, she gingerly turned the knob and pushed the door open. The worst part of it all: the room looked the same. It held no indication of evil. It held no proof of a lie. It didn't look the part of a cheap dime-store tragedy waiting to happen. It looked like the room she always knew. The cream colored comforter was neatly smoothed across the king-sized bed and the pillows were fluffed. The wardrobe stood tall and a small bookshelf to its side was perfectly organized to her father's liking. To her left, her mother's vanity; it hadn't been touched in nearly ten years. The only people who touched it were the maids, and they merely brushed it with a feather duster.

Her father never let anyone touch it- not even Asami. He protected it valiantly- sometimes almost violently. Being young and ignorant at the time, she thought it was just his way of mourning his lost wife. Being older and wiser now, Asami could safely say that it was the starting point of his obsession to avenge her.

Numbly, the Sato heiress pulled out the vanity's chair and sat down. With her hands on her knees, Asami's green eyes scanned the table top. It was perfectly clean with a few scuff marks on the front of the table. Towards the upper corner next to the mirror was a case of foundation, and a powder compact sitting on top of it. Various shades of lipstick and eye shadow adorned the opposite corner, while bottles of exotic perfumes lined up in front of the mirror like little army men.

Finally, Asami looked up at the mirror and held her reflection's empty gaze. It made her feel sick; she hated feeling nothing, but feeling everything all at once.

She looked down again, just now noticing the thin drawers the vanity bored.

"Asami?"

Miss Sato could hardly remember a time when her head snapped around so quickly. She tensed up, ready to chase someone off or to fight an intruder, but froze when she saw Bolin peeking his head through the doorway.

She must have forgotten to lock the front door when she came in.

"Oh, hey, Bolin…" she said, the weight falling back onto her shoulders as she relaxed. "What are you doing here?"

"You forgot one of your jackets back at the island," Bolin eased in through the door and into the room. "So I thought I'd bring it back to you."

"Thanks." She could find no good company in words. Instead she turned back around to the vanity and tried her best to ignore the earthbender as he approached her from behind.

"So was this your dad's room?" Bolin took a moment to examine the room as he waited for an answer.

"My parents' room." She quietly corrected. The room seemed friendlier if her mother was somehow still included, even if she was long gone.

Bolin was only trying to help, and Asami knew this. She appreciated it, but she couldn't find any words to speak back to him and she couldn't bring herself to fake a smile for him. She wouldn't say she was okay.

Because in all honesty she wasn't.

In an attempt to keep her mind busy, she reached for one of the slim drawers of the vanity and gingerly pulled it out. Wood scraped against wood as the contents inside became visible to her. An arrangement of fancy pens were all shoved off to the side of the drawer, and rolled as she continued to pull it out further. Aged parchment sat beneath the bustling pens and provided little for the eye to behold. However, something did catch her eye as she looked at the front of the drawer.

A silver ring; a wedding band.

Her mother's to be exact.

Her slender fingers flinched on the handle of the drawer and her green eyes widened momentarily as her mind reeled. This was the ring her mother wore; the ring her father had given to her as they exchanged vows and became a married couple. These were the bands that signified the start of a new journey; a new family; a healthy family.

Quietly, she reached down and pinched the piece of silver in between her fingers and brought it up closer to her face. The years of wear and tear could still be seen on it even after years of never seeing the light of day. The damage consisted of small scratches, but her mother never wanted to get the ring replaced. Asami could recall a time when her father offered to send the ring in and get her a new one, but her mother profusely refused. She said that it didn't matter what the ring looked like- what mattered was what it signified and the love it held.

Asami frowned, bringing her hand up slightly and toying with the idea of placing the ring on her finger. It almost felt wrong to place another woman's wedding ring on her finger; but it was her mother's, and one of the last things Asami had left of her.

Sliding the ring on her finger, Asami admired how perfectly it fit. She had her mother's hands, or so many had told her.

The heiress had been so caught up in her reverie that she didn't even hear Bolin come up behind her and anchor over her shoulder.

"Heeey," Bolin drew out with a smile. "Silver really suits you."

Asami jumped, but laughed a little at the remark. Her laugh was bitter, yet it was light and hopeful at the same time. "You think so?" she never wore silver very much; red had always been one of her favorite colors.

"Yeah," he bobbed his head. "definitely."

She smiled, twisting the ring subconsciously around her ring finger.

It must have been about a week after moving back into her lonely home that Asami received an unexpected guest at her door. She had been passing through the common's area when the door was knocked upon, and she decided to answer it herself.

She wasn't sure who she was expecting to see, but Bolin wasn't on the top of her list.

"Hey," she smiled, opening the door a little wider so she could allow the earthbender in. "What're you doing here by yourself?" it was unusual to see Bolin show up to her house without company. Usually he had Korra or Mako in tow.

"Well, you know…" he scuffed his feet on the polished floor and smiled at her, "I just figured I'd stop by and check in on you to see how you were doing and all."

"I guess I'm doing fine." She answered while crossing her arms. "But something tells me you aren't just stopping by." She smirked.

"Oh, and pray tell makes you think that?" he rose his eyebrows at her, giving her a half-lidded look while tilting his chin up in a defiant manner.

"Because you have something behind your back that you aren't showing me."

Bolin's eyes shifted from her and to the floor before he spoke flatly, "Well played, Miss Sato, well played."

Here goes nothing.

Quickly, Bolin pulled out a bouquet of flowers and presented them to her. He swallowed, not entirely sure where his confidence went.

The flowers were daisies of many colors; purple, pink and yellow just to name a few. They were wrapped in yellow tissue paper and tied together at the stem by a silver bow.

"I just saw these this morning and they made me think of you, so I thought, you know," he shrugged, "that they might be kind of nice."

"They are," she smiled, gently taking them with both of her hands as if they were made of glass. "Thank you so much." She had no problem looking Bolin in the eyes; his irises held nothing but the utmost sincerity and kindness.

"Ahh, it's no problem." He played it down like it was no big deal, even though he was sweating bullets. "Actually, I thought you might be interested in going to grab a bite to eat- that is if you haven't had lunch yet." Breathe in, breathe out. This was Asami- one of his good friends. He shouldn't be this nervous about asking her to hang out.

Looking down at the flowers in her hands, she thought about his offer. She hadn't eaten yet, and she hadn't been out of the mansion hardly at all this past week- being that there was a lot of paper work she had to do and a lot of things her father had left undone. What was worst was she felt the mansion's melancholic air seeping into her lungs and pores and making her go crazy.

Asami could use a bit of kindness; a bit of sunshine and fun. She couldn't think of anything better than spending a little bit of time with Bolin.

"Sure," she looked up at him, twirling the bouquet gently as she did, "Just let me go put these in a vase and we'll go."

She had no problem finding a vase; many of the flowers which decorated the halls had died in her absence, thus leaving many vacant vases. Asami quickly filled one with water and undid the bouquet, and tenderly placed the cut flowers inside. The flowers didn't match the dreary brown colored vase, but that didn't matter to her. She appreciated who the flowers were from and to her, they looked beautiful no matter what they were put in.

Now she held a silver lace ribbon in her hand. She had no idea what to do with it at the moment. There were no trashcans and she was rather far away from her room. In haste, she simply tied the ribbon around her wrist.

Lunch went well and she couldn't remember the last time she laughed so much. Bolin was a guy who never ran out of things to talk about- and never ran out of stomach room to stow away food. He was mostly all smiles, but sympathized whenever she brought up her recent problems. As soon as she would start to feel down, he would find a way to lift her right back up again.

When they left the small eatery, the wind had picked up. After a few times of having her hair whip all around her, she quietly cursed, "I wish I had a rubber band."

Bolin looked down at Asami's hand as it reached into one of her pockets in a devoid search for a rubber band. As she did so, her sleeve brushed up her arm and the ribbon on her wrist revealed itself. Smiling, the earthbender reached for her wrist and unlaced the ribbon from it. "How about this?" He got behind her and wrapped the silver lace around her hair and tied it in a bow. "There- Tada!"

"Good idea!" she praised, reaching behind her head to kneed the ribbon between her thumb and index finger. "Does it look okay?" she seldom tied her hair back anymore; the only ones who got to see her with it tied back were Satomobiles- and they didn't say a whole lot.

"You look great," he pulled her around for her to see her reflection in a shop window and stood behind her as he gripped her shoulders. She turned her head to get a glimpse of the ribbon in her hair.

"See?" he asked, his head craning over her shoulder, "I told you silver suits you!"

Asami knew that babysitting the airbending children was a difficult chore. Pema was out shopping, Tenzin and Korra were at a council meeting, and Mako was working- which left Bolin to watch the monk children until one of them returned. Of course Pema was a tad skeptical of Bolin's babysitting skills, and as a precaution called Asami to come by and help him.

How could Asami say no? She enjoyed the company of the airbending kids. Plus, she figured her boyfriend of five months could use all the help he could get.

Their babysitting duties went well into the night, and everything had gone smoothly.

Until Meelo got ahold of the glitter.

What had first started as an innocent little art project turned into a full out war; the artillery being air and glitter. There were no survivors- all except for Bolin who managed to avoid the worst of the glitter. Asami on the other hand, was covered almost head to toe in the stuff and was slightly annoyed; she would be shedding glitter for weeks.

"You look pretty!" Meelo cried as he pointed at Asami's face.

Asami inhaled and exhaled. No need to lose her temper over the huge mess she would have to clean up.

"Little man's got a good eye." Bolin strolled into the room with a broom and dust pan in hand. Meelo quickly fled the room when he heard his sisters starting a commotion in the kitchen- the second battle was about to commence.

Asami closed her eyes, leaning forward to pick up a half empty bottle of gold glitter off of the floor. She dully examined it before she noticed Bolin squinting at her from her side. "What?" she asked, a bit of agitation still in her voice.

"Hey- he was right!" he jabbed a finger in the direction of her face, "You look really pretty with all of that silver glitter on your face!"

Asami pouted. How was she supposed to stay irritated when he was giving her compliments like that? Then again, he looked really out of place; his face was spotless of glitter. Smirking, Asami pouring the rest of the gold glitter into her hand and tossed it into Bolin's face.

"Aww man…" Bolin whined as he slowly opened his eyes; he was going to cry if any of it got in his eyes.

Asami's smirk turned into a smile, "There. Now you look pretty too."

Bolin wiped a few sprinkles of glitter off of his face and looked at them on his fingertips, "Hey, you know how the song goes," he smiled, leaning forward and planting a quick kiss on her lips, "silver and gold."

She would be lying if she said she hadn't dreamed about this day. After all, what little girl didn't think about their wedding day at least once? As a child one often fantasizes about the beautiful decorations and how marvelous they will look once they are in their dream dress. Older women fantasized about the man in the tux at the altar.

It was just so surreal to her that that day was final upon her.

She had to admit she had envisioned it differently as a little girl. She imagined both of her parents being there. She imagined her mother being the one to help her into her dress and help her with her hair and makeup; Korra and Pema were the masterminds behind it now- along with a few trusted servants. She expected to have her father walk her down the isle; Tenzin had offered her a gentle smile and said it would be an honor. She was grateful, but she still wished her parents could have been there.

When that time came to walk down the isle, she realized that none of those things mattered. What mattered was that Bolin was in his place- at the altar, and more importantly in her heart.

Nothing else mattered but the man with the smile like sunshine.

Dancing was an old hap for her. She had to dance with a lot of people at balls and formal gatherings. Asami grew tired of those dances. But something told her she would never get tired of dancing with Bolin. He always found a way to spice up traditional dances and turn them into something entirely new. He would find a way to spin her, and make her laugh and smile.

She had to admit though, the one thing she loved more than laughing and smiling was watching her husband laughing and smiling.

During one of the last dances of the night, Asami managed to talk Bolin into a slow dance- and keeping it slow. Oh how she adored his free spirit, but her feet were starting to kill her. He agreed with feigned disappointment, but gave her a wink.

It was slow and gentle. Mesmerized was the best way to describe how Asami felt, but maybe that wasn't so much from the dancing, so much as it was Bolin's green eyes boring into her own.

After a hypnotic silence, Bolin clasped her left hand in his and lifted them up for both of them to see, "See?" he smiled, "Silver suits you."

On her left hand was a silver wedding band.

Her silver wedding band; given to her from the man she loved.

On Bolin's left hand was a matching silver wedding band; his band also given to him by the woman he loved.

She leaned forward, brushing her lips against his ear, "I think it suits you pretty good too."