𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐑 𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄; an elbow pressed on her desk, the fading light of an old bulb draws sharp contrast of shadows across her face, 𝘍𝘙𝘈𝘔𝘌𝘋 𝘉𝘠 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘊𝘌𝘐𝘓𝘐𝘕𝘎 - 𝘓𝘌𝘕𝘎𝘛𝘏 𝘞𝘐𝘕𝘋𝘖𝘞𝘚 in front of her. too many forget that, though it may be 𝗞𝗢𝗥𝗥𝗔'𝗦 𝗦𝗣𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗧𝗨𝗔𝗟 𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗣𝗢𝗡𝗦𝗜𝗕𝗜𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬 to maintain balance in the world, ruins do not simply repair themselves [ 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚂𝙰𝙻𝚅𝙰𝙶𝙴 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝚁𝙴𝙼𝙽𝙰𝙽𝚃𝚂 𝙾𝙵 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙴𝚀𝚄𝙰𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃 𝙼𝙾𝚅𝙴𝙼𝙴𝙽𝚃, 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚁𝙴𝙼𝙰𝙸𝙽𝚂 𝙾𝙵 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝚅𝙸𝙽𝙲𝙴𝚂 𝙲𝚁𝚄𝚂𝙷𝙴𝙳 𝙱𝚈 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙴𝙰𝚁𝚃𝙷 𝙴𝙼𝙿𝙸𝚁𝙴 ] & the starving and displaced cannot be sated by kind words. it has become the responsibility of future industries to oversee the reconstruction, and that means nights like this, lost to paperwork. and yet, 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐄𝐓; hand rests on asami’s shoulder, the other arm around her. soft lips press into korra’s hand, and her head falls against the avatar’s chest. ❛❛ no, not yet — ❜❜ her breath leaves freely, strained muscle finally relaxed by the presence of the woman behind her. ❛❛ part of me wishes i’d 𝙅𝙐𝙎𝙏 𝙇𝙀𝙏 𝙑𝘼𝙍𝙍𝙄𝘾𝙆 take over all these contracts, ❜❜ an attempt at a joke that, at the very least, produces a labored laugh. her vision dulls, the 𝚆𝙰𝚁𝙼 𝙻𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃 𝙾𝙵 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙻𝙰𝙼𝙿 eclipsed; korra leans forward from her position behind the chair and, in wordless silence, aching fingertips reach for the woman’s jaw. a brief look, a tired smile, and asami slowly pulls the woman’s lips to her own — 𝘍𝘐𝘕𝘎𝘌𝘙𝘛𝘐𝘗𝘚 𝘊𝘜𝘙𝘓 𝘐𝘕𝘛𝘖 𝘚𝘏𝘖𝘙𝘛 𝘏𝘈𝘐𝘙, and after a few long moments of languorous embrace, a tender crane of the neck. ❛❛ you’re not the only one with work to do. ❜❜ purposeful kiss to the forehead follows, as she cradles korra’s head in her hand. ❛❛ ten minutes, 𝙒𝘼𝙄𝙏 𝙐𝙋 𝙁𝙊𝙍 𝙈𝙀. ❜❜
