...ireball. His pride had gotten the better of him. As much as he wanted to accept her offer of help, not only did he not know if Korra had ever even played a game before, but Mako didn't want anyone thinking he needed to rely on the Avatar for help. Silently he had thanked the spirits when Korra said she was going to be their replacement anyway. Though the match had started out rough, the beautiful Avatar had come through in the end.
His thoughts flash forward to after the match, when he told Korra what he thought of her performance. At that moment, however, Mako wanted to tell her more than he did. He wanted to tell her that she was beautiful. The way she moved was beautiful. Everything about her was beautiful. Yet he chickened out, and while what he said was true, she was indeed a natural, he hadn't told her the whole truth.
Mako's heart races while he can't take his eyes off of the island. He can feel his blood rushing, and it's rushing down his abdomen to his groin the more he thinks of Korra. Her scent, in particular. She smells exactly like he thought she would. A dusky, earthy scent, similar to Bolin's but so much more feminine; a faint hint of ash with a heavy dose of exotic smokiness. But above all, what Mako loves the most is how she smells akin to fresh rain and it is so crisp, clean and vibrant he swears it brings all the other smells together. It combines them all in one smell that Mako is sure that ...