Makorra: Gift of a Lifetime- Chapter.10 Pt.1

Chapter 10: Men’s Talk

Sleep was a precious gift. It was comforting like a blanket, and rejuvenating like the sun that pushed fire through his veins. It allowed him to reset his body, his mind, and his spirit. He would admit that he had been taking it for granted--especially as of late--but once he was in sleep’s tender hold, he remembered just how gracious and loving it truly was.

Spirits, he loved sleep. Sometimes he felt like he could just sleep for days--especially lately, with how busy he had been. Probending, working, going to the island every night to visit Korra, and then finally returning to his cozy bed to settle in for a short night’s sleep, before the cycle started all over again.

Speaking of resting in his cozy bed, his bed didn’t feel quite right. It felt a bit firmer. Now that he thought about it, he felt like he could see less light through his eyelids than he usually did in the mornings; the scaling windows of the attic often let in the entirety of the sun’s rays, and forced him out of bed with its blinding light.

Come to think of it, Mako couldn’t even recall crawling into bed last night. Why, he couldn’t even remember the walk home from the island.

Mako opened his bleary eyes and blinked the sleep away. He reined in his focus and exhaled deeply.

The ceiling above him wasn’t the one he was used to waking up to. This ceiling was much lower, and the construction of it was different.

What had he been doing last night before he had fallen asleep? He had gone to the Air temple after practice; he had skipped out on dinner completely, as it was late and he was far too tired to bother going out to get something. It was nearly nine when he got there, and when he did he just went straight to Korra’s room. She had been laying down reading something Tenzin had assigned to her. She all too willingly tore her attention away from it and placed her icy blue eyes on him.

Something about her eagerness to see him made his heart, hardened and tattered from the day’s schedule, melt and warm his entire body.

They talked for a while—about their days and about the little things, and before he knew it they were both laying on her bed, side by side, still talking.

Mako moved his arm and felt something keep him from stretching it across the bed. Looking over, he suddenly realized where he was.

Korra was next to him, curled up with a blanket pulled up to her chin. She slept in complete serenity; not a troubled line or worry on her face. Her hair was loose and splayed out across her pillow, and her breathing was slow and even.

Mako took a moment to run his eyes over her body. She was completely covered by the pristine blue blanket that always adorned her bed. Her legs were drawn up, at least as far as they could go. Her pregnancy was becoming more and more real to the both of them every passing day. She could no longer hide her protruding belly from peering eyes with her navy blue parka.

Pema had remarked that Korra looked a tad bigger than normal at eighteen weeks—to which Korra sighed so heavily that Mako could practically feel it on his weary shoulders. Jinora had overheard the conversation while she was reading, and quietly chirped with a wide smile, “Do you think you might be having twins?”

Korra groaned, and it took all of Mako’s power not to join her in chorus.

One baby was enough, thank you very much.

To their –slight- relief, Pema had assured them that Korra probably wasn’t pregnant with twins, but that the baby was probably just in an odd position, or that it could be because of Korra’s body build that she was a bit larger.

Dr. Tai had informed them at Korra’s last appointment, to which Mako managed to make, that she could just be carrying more fluid, or that it was a who-knows-whatsits—because as the doctor often stated: Every pregnancy is different.

Both had been about to let out a sigh of relief until the good doctor bluntly added, “Or you could be pregnant with twins. I don’t know.”

It only got worse when the possibility of twins was mentioned to Bolin, who then began prattling off all of the fun antics they would have if in fact there were two sets of little feet pitter-pattering down the hall.

Mako took a moment to look at Korra’s abdomen. He couldn’t even tell she was pregnant so long as she was cocooned in her blanket. She just looked like the….well, the non-pregnant Korra he had always known. Though he had to admit he was surprised that she wasn’t snoring lightly. Any time he ever caught her sleeping, she always let out these tiny snores. He smiled and shook his head at her before sitting up in bed.

He had come to the conclusion that he must have fallen asleep last night while they were talking. Korra probably hadn’t wanted to wake him, so she went and grabbed a spare blanket and threw it on him before going to sleep herself.

Mako rubbed his eyes and took a deep breath.

And boy, would he need that breath.

His mind wasn’t alert enough to register the knocking at the door, or the masculine voice that called out Korra’s name before sliding the door open.

Tenzin and Mako both froze in their respective places and their eyes locked onto each other like two frightened bull turtles. Mako—hair a mess, eyes still hazy with sleep and a blanket thrown over his lap—knew that this situation wasn’t about to play out in his favor. Tenzin—face flushing red with anger and eyebrows raised in disbelief—had already made the decision that Mako and Korra were in a whole mess of trouble

Mako needed that breath.

Because it might as well be his last.

------

This was a situation Mako never thought he’d be in. Then again, he never thought he would get the Avatar pregnant and be preparing for fatherhood at the age of nineteen, either; but at this point in time—in the wee hours of the morning—Mako just decided to let the chips fall where they may with this one. After all, he knew better than to get between a hormonal and sleep-deprived Korra, and a flustered airbending master.

Once Tenzin had found Mako in Korra’s bed, he immediately dragged the both of them from the room and into the dining room. It was seven in the morning and everyone else on the island had risen to start the day. When Tenzin had discovered that Korra was sleeping in—again—he had made it a point to go and wake her up. He, of course, hadn’t planned on waking Mako as well.

Tenzin sat across the table from a disheveled Mako and a pajama-clad Korra. “I cannot believe,” he said, trying to keep his voice as level as possible, “that after everything that has happened, you would allow a boy to sleep in your bed.”

“Tenzin, we didn’t do anything!” Korra pleaded desperately. She really just wanted to go to bed. She was already a horrible morning person, but being pregnant was tiring, and being yelled out of bed by a red-faced Tenzin was an awful way to start off the morning.

“It doesn’t matter that you didn’t do anything.” Tenzin was trying his best to explain this to Korra as calmly as possible, but he was finding it hard to remain patient. He was still flustered and bewildered. “What matters is that a boy was sleeping your bed.”

“But why does that even matter when we didn’t do anything?!” Unlike her airbending instructor, Korra had no problem with letting Tenzin know that this matter was pointless and exhausting. She was grumpy from being woken up so suddenly, and she was prepared to let Tenzin know.

“You didn’t have to do anything!” Tenzin barked. His student was stubborn and thick-skulled; this wasn’t something that he was going to be able to easily deposit into her wisdom bank and expect it to stay and build interest. “It’s about the idea, Korra!” Deep breath in, deep breath out; reign in frantic thoughts and usher in rationality and patience. “A boy and a girl should not sleep in the same bed, let alone the same room, unless they are married.”

“We’re pregnant,” Korra deadpanned.

“You’re still missing the point. It looks bad to everyone else!”

“To who?!” Korra threw her arms in the air. “Nobody outside of this island can see us!” She brought her hands down and rested one against her forehead; the last thing she wanted this morning was a headache. “I just don’t understand what the big deal is—we didn’t do anything.”

“I assume that you didn’t, but that still doesn’t change the fact that it looks…scandalous,” Tenzin mumbled.

Korra released a frustrated sigh and ran her fingers through her tousled hair. The reasoning behind Tenzin’s side of the argument made absolutely no sense to her, but she couldn’t fight back if he was stuck on the ludicrous idea that her and Mako innocently sharing a bed just once was taboo.

Mako drew in a quiet breath and closed his eyes briefly. He could easily see both sides of the argument. Sleeping in the same room did look devious; but they also didn’t do anything, and no one had to know about their sleeping arrangements, impromptu or otherwise. He knew he was at fault, but he was having a difficult time sitting here listening to the student and master squabble about it. The arguing was drilling on nerves that were already cracked from lack of sleep. What made it even worse was that Mako had looked at the clock and realized that he had to be back at the power plant in an hour.

He decided to keep quiet, however, and allow Tenzin and Korra to have it out. Mako was used to Korra butting heads with Tenzin and challenging his teachings, wisdom, and tradition—but he had also seen and heard enough arguments to know that Tenzin was going to win this one, just like he had with all of the others.

 “I know that you didn’t mean anything by it.” Tenzin allowed his sympathy leak through his angered dam as he watched Korra pout. But she definitely wasn’t out of the woods just yet. “But in the future, I would rather not see you two sharing a room—or a bed.”

Mako looked at the clock again. When he saw the time, he closed his eyes and took in a collective breath. He had to steel himself for another busy day, and engrave upon his patience the convictions and promises he had made to himself, to Korra, and their child. He would have let Korra keep arguing with Tenzin, but he had to cut in and excuse himself before Korra continued.

“Yes, sir.” He stood up from his spot and winced when he felt his muscles protest, and heard a few spots in his back pop.

“You’re agreeing with him?” Korra glowered. “Just like that?”

“It’s his house.” Mako shrugged as he turned toward the hallway. “And I don’t have time to talk about it—I have to be at work in an hour.” He took a moment to look over his shoulder at Korra; the sight made him exhale heavily, yet quietly, and his shoulders slump. He hated the look she was giving him; her blue eyes appeared larger whenever she gave him a disappointed expression. They sparkled as they flitted about his figure in a pleading way.

“You have to work again today?” Korra’s eyebrows were drawn up and her previously heated voice echoed dismay. “But you just got off of your last shift seven hours ago!”

“Yeah, well…” Shutting off the sadness Korra’s eyes pitted in him was the only way Mako was going to get anything done. “That’s the way the power plant works. I’ll come back after probending practice.” He walked down the hall, letting weary determination slowly pump through his tired, young body. He would keep going and force his tenacity against his throbbing muscles and aching bones.

Mako wasn’t a quitter, especially when it involved his pride and the people important to him—whether he knew them yet or not.

------

“I think it’s moving,” Korra said rather suddenly in the quiet of her room. She and Asami were back to their rituals. Asami would come over and greet the kids when she first came in through the door. She would small talk with Korra and Pema in the living room before Korra would whisk Asami away into her room so that they could talk more privately. It was basically a girl’s getaway—just Korra, Asami, and Naga splayed out unceremoniously on the floor on her back.

They had gone quiet after talking about Future Industries and their latest plans for a Satomobile that catered to family needs. Korra had successfully diverted all attention away from her unborn child. Asami had tried to start small talk about the newest addition to the Avatar family, but Korra steered the conversation into a different direction each time. Asami finally took the hint that her best friend wasn’t going to talk about her baby anytime soon.

Korra had been laying on her back next to Naga, nonchalantly petting the polar bear dog’s side. She felt naked without her parka on, but Asami had practically ripped it off of her. The Sato heiress had chastised her saying that it was too hot outside, and still reasonably warm in the temple. It was apparent that Korra was overheating, so after arguing with her and getting nowhere, Asami grabbed the fabric on her shoulders and pulled it up over Korra’s head.

When Korra had said she had been wearing the parka to conceal her baby bump, Asami had said bluntly, “You can’t hide it under a parka forever.”

Korra had pouted and said that she knew that, but added under her breath that she could try. She didn’t feel comfortable walking around with her bump out for everyone to see. It was a reminder of what was to come—a public reminder of what she and Mako had done. It was even more unnerving to let Asami see it, considering it was proof that she and Mako had gone behind her back; that it was her ex-boyfriend’s baby. That aside, Korra was only just now getting used to seeing it when she was by herself.  She’d even go as far as saying that she was a little interested in it and maybe even just a little fond of it.

In the midst getting used to her physical changes, and the gradual acceptance of her motherhood, she hadn’t expected to feel her baby move so suddenly. At first she thought that it had been something she ate; a small feeling in her abdomen that felt like popcorn popping. But it kept happening. Pema had told her that she could expect her baby to move anytime now, but Korra had disregarded the information, as she wasn’t ready to comprehend that her child could move.

Asami had looked up from the magazine she was looking at, a look of shock on her face. “What?” She hadn’t expected her friend—who had been completely evasive of all things regarding her baby—to so abruptly mention its developmental milestone.

“I think it’s moving,” Korra said again as she focused all of her feeling in her abdomen. She lifted her head ever to slightly to look at her stomach, but didn’t notice any visible movement.

“What makes you say that?” Folding the magazine, Asami sat up straight and looked from Korra to her belly.

“I don’t know.” Korra kept her eyes on her stomach for a bit longer before forfeiting finding any movement with her eyes and laying her head back down against the wooden floor. “I can just feel something.”

Asami placed her hands on the floor and leaned forward on her knees. Curiosity was sparkling in her eyes like stars. “What does it feel like?” She took a chance to look at Korra’s stomach; she could only ever do it when Korra wasn’t looking. The Avatar was almost always trying to hide it or had her arms wrapped around herself to keep people from staring.

“Kinda like…” Korra thought of a good way to describe the feeling. “Like popcorn popping or…fluttering.” She experimentally grazed her finger tips across the top of her small bulge. What used to be taut muscle was now a gradually hardening bump. Normally she wouldn’t dare touch it with someone else in the room—she barely touched it at all, even by herself—but her curiosity and slight concern propelled her to let her fingers touch where her child rested.

Korra waited to feel the fluttering against her fingertips but it never came. “I don’t think I can feel it on the outside though—like I can’t feel them if I touch my stomach.”

“Are you sure it’s not gas or something?”

“I don’t think so,” Korra answered unsurely. “I mean I think I’d know if it was gas.”

“I think I’d know if it was gas.”

Korra smirked and turned her head to look over at Asami. “So our friendship has reached the level of fart jokes.”

Asami nodded tersely and smiled. “Yeah, well, we both knew that it’d get there eventually.”

Closing her eyes, Korra laughed lightly and let her head tilt to her left. Spirits, she was glad she and Asami were still friends. She wasn’t sure how she was supposed to keep sane without another girl her age around during these troubling times. It had been a week and a half since they began rekindling their friendship, and all had been well. Asami had stopped by a few times since then, just to see how things were going and to hang out.

There were still a few snags and knots they had to work through, though, as to be expected. They both avoided the topic of Mako like a toxic plague; Asami, not wanting to talk about him, and Korra, who just didn’t want to bring tension into their still-shaky friendship. Korra could still feel awkwardness whenever Asami would first come over. The uncomfortable air would clear within minutes, and seemed to disappear a little more with each visit; once they got talking, the fog lifted and it was as if nothing had ever come between them.

Sometimes she wondered what Asami thought about her unborn child. She wondered if she held distain for it, or if she felt different around her because she was pregnant. Korra would dismiss those thoughts once they would begin talking, though. Asami seemed to be more than eager to learn more about the baby and always tried to pry Korra to talk about it. Asami was really the least of her worries in terms of judgment at this point.

If only she knew what her parents were going to think about all of this…

Korra rested her arm back at her side and slowly closed her eyes as she recalled her letter. Her parents should have gotten it by now, and have probably read it close to a hundred times already. She couldn’t help but let her worries run rampant as she thought about how they must have reacted and what they were going to write back.

“Have you gotten a letter back from your parents yet?”

Sometimes Korra could swear Asami could read her mind.

“No…not yet.” Korra took a deep breath and released it through her nose. “They should have gotten the letter by now, though.”

“They probably have.” Asami looked back over at the magazine she has placed to her side. Quietly, she picked it up by its flimsy spine and gingerly opened it up, as if to apologize for suddenly ignoring it. “I’m sure they’ve written you back and the letter is on its way.”

“Probably.” Korra draped her arm over her eyes. It was times like these—the ones filled with anxiety and uncertainty—that she wished she could just close her eyes and will for everything to stop. But because she couldn’t, she would just settle for temporary darkness and, if time and comfort permitted, sleep.

“Try not to worry about it.” Asami nonchalantly thumbed through the pages; what had originally been interesting Sato Mobile articles now dulled in comparison to the talk she and Korra passed back and forth.

“I’ve tried.” Korra skimmed her other hand across Naga’s side; the feeling of the Polar Bear Dog’s coarse fur comforting her ever so slightly. “It just makes me antsy waiting to hear what they’re going to say.”

“I know,” Asami agreed quietly. “But it’s not like they’re going to stop loving you. I mean, from what you’ve told me, they seem like pretty great parents.”

“Yeah…” Korra knew her friend was right. Her parents were simple, kind-hearted, and reasonable people. They would never stop loving her—that wasn’t a concern. What did worry her was what they were going to say; the “you should have known better” and the “I can’t believe you did this” prattle that was sure to be scrawled in ink were the very things that made her eyes sting and her heart heavy. They had every right to ask such questions, because even she asked herself those very same things when shit hit the fan. But Korra was over it now. She wasn’t asking herself those things anymore. She focused more on the present now, and was slowly turning a shy eye towards her future with a child. She didn’t want to hear questions that had plagued her in the past; didn’t want to deal with things that wouldn’t help her step into motherhood. But she knew that her parents were going to go through that same phase of shock that she went through, and would blast her with a million questions--some of which she would be happy to answer, while others she would let whip her across her back. She hated that she was being receptive to such things, but she knew that it was her parents’ right to be a little upset. She would do better at holding her tongue and taking their words, unlike she had done with Tenzin.

Taking a deep breath through her nose, Korra tried to wipe her mind. She would allow the oxygen to purify her troubling thoughts and she would exhale the remains. She would open her eyes and put a smile on her face; not to look brave or to look as though she was okay. No, she was doing it to keep herself positive. Tenzin always said that positive thinking was a way of life and that a smile was an effective tool, not in lying to one’s self, but to unlocking calm and happiness.

Korra would put this lesson to use whenever she thought about it, and she would try to look on the brighter side of things—though they certainly seemed few and far between. Until she could stumble across these happy jewels, she would just remain calm and remind herself that everything would work out just fine in the end. She wasn’t even sure if it would, but Tenzin seemed to think so, as did her friends and Pema. Maybe they were seeing something she wasn’t.

She wondered if Mako could see it too.

------

Pema thanked the Spirits that she was a patient woman. She was blessed not only with patience, but rationality. Training as an air acolyte for many years had drawn out such traits from within her, and she found that she utilized them on a day to day basis. It was only recently, however, that she seriously thanked the Spirits for not only these things, but for her experience as well. When Korra had confided in her about her situation, Pema was able to assist Korra with her rationality. Since then, she was able to help the young woman by using her past child bearing experiences. But she found that her blessings were not only being used for Korra.

“And when I walked in to her room this morning…” Tenzin seemed to be having a hard time spitting out the entirety of his story, but he eventually got pasted his flustered agitation. “…she had a boy sleeping in her bed!”

Pema found that these saintly gifts she wielded were coming in handy for her husband, too. “And by a boy, you mean Mako, right?”

“Of course!” Tenzin scoffed. “And I tried explaining to her why having him sleep in her bed was wrong, but she just wouldn’t listen, and I couldn’t get through to her!”

Pema took a slow breath and kept her humoring smile present on her lips. She finished pouring the tea into the small cups and quietly ushered them onto the tray. Lifting it, she carefully made her way over to her husband and placed it next to him on the table. “Tenzin, don’t you think you might be overreacting?” Her voice was pleasant enough; the calming smell of the tea was keeping her relaxed, and she was hopeful that it would have the same affect on her husband. She placed on cup in front of him before grabbing her cup and sitting down.

The airbender gave his wife a mildly unimpressed look before speaking. “I’m not overreacting.” He picked up his cup gently, despite his simmering mood. “Korra should know better than to have a boy sleep in her bed. It looks bad.”

“To who?”

“To everyone else!”

“There is no one else!” Pema laughed. “No one outside of this island is going to see anything!”

“T-that’s not what I meant!” He crossed his arms and slouched forward.

Pema took a moment to examine her husband. She had known him long enough to know just what he was thinking, regardless of what his lips said. He had a bit of a pout on his face, but it was also escorted by a perturbed cloudiness in his eyes.

‘It looks bad to everyone else’ actually meant, ‘it looks bad to me’.

Pema sighed, allowing her finger tips to massage the sides of her ceramic cup. “Dear,” she started, “do you honestly think they would actually do anything?”

The shift of his eyes from his lap to the floor hinted to her his answer before he even spoke. “It didn’t stop them before,” he answered somewhat bitterly.

“True,” Pema agreed, “But if I recall, they were a bit under the influence.” She paused as she gazed into the warm tea in her cup. “But they aren’t now, and I think that after everything that’s happened they won’t be doing anything like sex any time soon.”

“You may be right.” Tenzin was willing to give her that much. “But that’s just it—they’ve done it, and they’ll probably want to keep doing it if the opportunity is there!”

“You’re right,” Pema said easily. “And now that they’re pregnant they don’t have that fear to stop them.” She leaned back ever so slightly, her hands still resting caringly around her tea cup. Her eyes closed for a moment as she took a deep breath and smiled. Perhaps she shouldn’t be so calm, but she attributed this demeanor to her confidence in her perception and her experience as a young woman and mother. “But I think we should give them a little more credit.”

“Sometimes I don’t think that they deserve it,” Tenzin admitted. He hated sounding so down on his student. He knew that she beat herself up over it all, and that she had a lot to deal with. He was proud of her for coming to her own decision and for being brave enough to face this new part of her life. But his student had shattered a piece of their trust. He trusted her to behave when she left the island and to stay out of trouble—at least trouble that didn’t involve her Avatar duties. Now that that trust had been defiled, he was constantly questioning what Korra and her friends were going to do next. And by ‘friends’, he almost always exclusively meant Mako.

“I just worry, Pema,” the airbending master admitted rather suddenly. He leaned forward and rested an elbow on the table. He pinched his nose between his fingers and closed his eyes. “I’ve never had to deal with something like this before. And no amount of training I ever went through—no amount of life experience—has ever prepared me for it. And even though I believe everything will work out in the end, I just wonder how much more heartbreak she might go through before then.”

“You mean with Mako, don’t you?”

He dropped his arms into his lap and rested his elbows on his thighs. He allowed his tired grey eyes to stare out the window aimlessly. “I know he’s been a close friend of hers for a while now. He is friendly; even the kids seem to like him. He works hard and is mindful of his manners—I commend him for it. And I know that Korra is fond of him…”

Pema followed her husband’s gaze out to the ocean; the waves were calm, much like the tea in her cup. The storm her husband had brought her had settled, but behind his cloudy eyes there brewed words left unspoken. When he didn’t continue, she turned her head to look at him and prodded him, “But?”

“But…” It was a few more moments before he spoke, but Tenzin made good on her question. “I don’t want to see her hurt because of him, or regret any decisions she makes because of him.”

“Oh, Tenzin…” Pema sighed idly, letting her shoulders sag. “You can’t protect her from everything. Besides, Mako seems to be a good guy. I mean, it’s like you said; he’s a hard worker and friendly, good with the kids, and Korra likes him just fine.” She thought she had packed his fears away with his own positive notions of Mako; reinforced the box the worries were in with duct tape and was ready to put them away in the attic. But then her husband ripped the box back open and put them back up on display for her.

“But he’s from the streets, Pema! People who live like that tend to have a ‘cut and run’ habit. They bail out when things get inconvenient or too tough for them. And as much of a good person as he seems to be, I just have to wonder…” Tenzin paused, debating if he should even issue his words to his wife. “I’m just wondering if that sort of behavior is so deeply ingrained in him from that life, that when the time comes he’ll leave her.”

Pema let her husband’s words sink in as she rolled the warm teacup between the palms of her hands. That was a legitimate fear; maybe even a warranted one, given the circumstances. People from the streets did tend to run from trouble, or go looking for it. But was that really something Mako would do? The young man had common sense, and a good head on his shoulders. He took care of his brother and was smart with his money. He helped Korra take down Equalists multiple times and even saved her during a few of those outings. Not to mention he had been genuinely concerned about Korra when she had first initially chose to terminate her pregnancy. And he was working so hard for the baby when he didn’t even have to. He was already saving up money to take care of it; Mako said it wasn’t much in the grand scheme of things, but it was a start.

“You know,” Pema started thoughtfully, “you may be right.” She put her hands over the opening of her cup and let the heat of the tea warm her hands. “He might leave her and never look back.” She gazed out the window and admired the simplicity of the ocean and clear skies. “But I don’t think he will.”

“What makes you say that?” Tenzin rested his right elbow on the table and looked at his wife. He lay his bearded chin in the palm of his hand and waited for her explanation.

“I think it’s because he’s from the streets; I think it’s because of that that he knows what’s right and what his convictions should be.” She took a deep breath. “I think his heart is in the right place. He’s taken care of his brother for years and he’s working hard to make things right.

“And besides…” She smiled widely at Tenzin. “I think he cares too much about Korra to just leave her.” Looking down, she removed her hands from her cup and let the cool air coat her warmed hands. “And Korra told me that he wants this child to have a father.”

“He might not mean it, you know,” Tenzin quietly said. “People tell lies to make other people happy.”

“You might be right.” Pema shrugged. “Maybe Korra does put a little too much faith in him, and maybe I’m following her lead a little too closely.”

“Maybe,” Tenzin mumbled. “I want to believe he’s a good person. But I still have this fear that he’s just playing her. So many men—young men off the streets and on the streets—only want one thing, and once they get it then they leave.”

“Tenzin.” Pema smiled cheekily. “He already got it.”

“Pema!”

She laughed; her laughter whimsical like tinkling bells on a spring afternoon. “What I’m trying to say is that he’s still here. We can’t keep worrying about stuff if it hasn’t even happened yet—you even said that yourself.”

“Yes, well-“

“And we don’t know if she’ll get hurt—if she does, she does; if she doesn’t, then she doesn’t. We can’t stop the either of them from doing what they want.”

“We could at least keep them from sleeping in the same room…” He brought this argument to the table and it somehow turned into a confessional. But he wasn’t about to leave without proving that he was right.

“No we can’t,” Pema hummed.

“And why not?!”

“Because they’re teenagers,” Pema answered simply, “with a baby on the way and with their lives ahead of them.”

She had heard them plenty of times; as Pema would pass down the hall that held Korra’s bedroom, she could pass Korra’s door and hear them talking softly and laughing. She even peered in through the crack of her door once or twice, and all she saw were two teenagers laying next to each others on their backs; memories in their eyes and the future on their smiling faces. And when she looked at the two of them, as Mako and Korra would look at each other, Pema could see their past-filled eyes flicker just a moment to reveal a possibility for the future. Pema knew that look: a look only shared between two people who were discovering themselves and each other, and slowly falling in love with each passing moment.

Maybe that was why she had so much faith in Mako; why she had so much faith in two teenagers. “I just don’t think that, when they fall asleep in the same bed, that they’re only thinking of one thing.” At least not all the time. She kept the thought from her husband; no need to give him a stroke.

Tenzin sighed; he was defeated. He knew when to lay things to rest, and this argument was no different. “I suppose, but I still don’t like it.”

“You can try to stop them all you want,” Pema replied. “All I ask is that you try to go a little easier on them.”

Tenzin crossed his arms, not really wanting to agree to her terms, but knowing full well that he should. He supposed he could admit, at least to himself for the time being, that he had over reacted just a tiny bit. He could have at least talked to Korra in private about it when he was calm and ask her why Mako had been in her bed in the first place. He would apologize to her later, but still tell her that he didn’t like them sleeping in the same bed and that he would prefer that they slept in separate rooms.

However, like Pema said, they were teenagers with a baby on the way, and their lives ahead of them.