#privateispreferred

Cocking an eyebrow, Asami’s upper lip curled into a snarl, as she condescendingly inquired, “Why would I ever ask you out on a date? Maybe you’re too dimwitted and narrow-minded to pick up on this, but I would never sink that low to be with revolting trash like you. No, you’re not even trash. You’re just that rubbish that was forgotten in the corner.”

private-is-preferred:

"Oh, you mean water boy?" Mako scoffed, crossing his arms. He thought his opinion of Tahno was already painfully obvious, "I don't like him. Not one bit. Not only is he a cheater but he also hits on Korra to much for my liking."

Mako stiffened as his eyes landed upon Tahno, his hands twitching into then out of fists at his sides. 

He didn't want to kiss him, not mentally, at least; but physically, his body was begging for it. Damn that M!A.

For almost the first time in her whole life, Korra was on time to something.

It was a little ironic that she'd be punctual for someone else's bending practice, but there she was, stretching her arms over her head and rocking on her heels. She was ready to go, limber, sharp--until the illusion was ruined by that hand clamped over her mouth to stifle a yawn and the slump of her shoulders. Alright, maybe it was still a little early for her taste. Maybe she wasn't the only one; after all, as the reigning champions, Tahno and his 'bats had never had to report to the gym at the crack of dawn.

That had changed. Just as it all had changed. Some for the worse, with the bitter memory of emptiness and void still echoing in the darker corners of her mind, and probably his as well. Some for the better, like the brightness of blue eyes when she told him and so many others she could make them whole again.

That he might not want to be there had never occurred to her. To someone like Korra, bending was like breathing, pro-bending just the ultimate thrill. It had unlocked her airbending for her, made her the closest friends she'd probably ever have, led her to love! It was an adventure, a triumph, an exaltation of the spirit. It was the highest of highs...

He'd shed it like a ratviper shed its skin, so fitting for one with that slithering tongue and conniving gleam in his eye. At least, it had been there once. Since she'd given his bending back, she was half-convinced it was only a matter of time before it was back again--hopefully tempered, but as much an innate part of him as the water that twisted to his will.

Mako gave the man before him a lazy once-over before crossing his arms. "Tahno," he addressed with a mild nod of acknowledgement.